


The Arrangement

by WinterRose527



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Robbcella, F/M, Slow Burn, Stark Parents are Dead, because I'm a demon with no self restraint and I feel like our babies will be too, but we'll see, might turn quick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-08-09 07:29:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16445474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: The Stark parents passed away in a car crash two years ago, leaving Robb and Sansa to look after their younger siblings. After two years, Robb convinces Sansa to think about herself and it results in her enrolling in a trauma care program three hours away.Conveniently right where Jon Snow works as a part of the Westorosi Defense Department (in an elite force called the Night's Watch, which no he can't tell you about).Robb, being the loving, protective, idiotic big brother that he is asks Jon a simple favour - to take Sansa to dinner once a week to make sure that she is looked after.How was he to know what would happen?





	1. A Modest Proposal

 

 

 

 

 _“Yes, baby, yes!,”_ Val cried.

 

“Take it, oh fuck, take it,” he growled.

 

He had her feet up near her ears as he thrust into her again and again.

 

“RIGHT THERE JON, RIGHT FUCKING THERE,” she screamed.

 

He felt her tighten around him as she came hard and he thrust into her, burying himself to his hilt as he came as well.

 

“Fucking hell,” she sighed as he fell down on the bed next to her.

 

They were both sweaty and panting, as they’d been at this for a couple hours. She turned to lean against his chest and he closed his eyes, wondering how he could get out of the post-coital cuddle.

 

His phone mercifully rang and he hopped out of bed, thinking it was work.

 

It wasn’t.

 

“Robb? Hello?,” Jon asked, “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah man,” Robb coughed, “Everything’s fine… it’s… well it’s been a while, huh?”

 

It had been a while. It had been months. He wasn’t sure who owed who the call at this point, but it didn’t matter. In a friendship like theirs all debts were shared.

 

“Yeah, it has been, I’m sorry things’ve been crazy up here -,” he shook his head, not really being able to say more than that, “But… I should’ve called. How… how are the kids?”

 

He knew Robb wouldn’t want to talk about himself. He never spoke about himself anymore.

 

“Pretty good actually,” Robb said, sounding very much like a relieved father, which he practically was. “Arya as you probably know already has been interning at Stark Industries though she’s only freshman and she’s really got a knack for the business and Bran is heading off to the Citadel in the fall, full academic scholarship, and Rickon is… well he’s fifteen, and reminds me entirely too much of Theon, but he’s good too and is most likely looking at a rugby or lacrosse scholarship in a few of years.”

 

Robb was only twenty three but it was evident that his every thought was for his younger siblings, making sure they are happy and cared for.

 

“Well that’s great man, I didn’t know about Arya but I’m glad to hear they are all…” _moving on_ “Settled.”

 

“Well, not all,” Robb said, “Sansa is uh…”

 

Jon’s stomach knotted guiltily thinking about the eldest Stark sister. He never thought about her, really, when it came to the Starks because she’d never really been around that much. She’d gone to an elite boarding school since she was fifteen and then he’d been in university and up here since.

 

The last time he’d seen her had been at her parents’ funeral, and she’d been far too thin and far too sad, playing the hostess, making sure the guests had something to drink and something to eat, granting him only an impersonal passing kiss on the cheek and a _Thank you for coming_ before heading off to greet friends of her parents’. He didn’t blame her for that, of course, she’d always been a lady, and wasn’t the type to show her grief outwardly. She didn’t really know him either, and wasn’t going to be like Arya who hardly left his side for days.

 

“She okay?,” he asked in concern, because even if he didn’t really know her all too well, she was still a Stark.

 

“Yeah… she’s okay… I finally convinced her to go back to school, I’m not sure if you know this but she’d been studying fashion at Highgarden before and when, well she dropped out and came home to take care of the kids. I helped, of course but… she’s amazing, she’s only twenty one and has just… it’s time she start thinking about herself again. So I convinced her to look into some programs and she’s decided to work in trauma care, in the ICU.”

 

“Woah she’s going to be a doctor?,” Jon asked in surprise.

 

“No, she’ll be a counsellor, to help families through that time. She’s going to be amazing at it and uh… well after everything I think she has a really - she knows that what works for one doesn’t work for all and I think she’ll be incredible.”

 

“I’m sure she will be,” Jon agreed.

 

Because if there was one thing he knew about her, it was that Sansa Stark didn’t fail at things.

 

“Anyway, the program, is in Molestown,” Robb said, “That’s close by, isn’t it?”

 

It really had been a while.

 

“Yeah I actually live in Molestown now and commute,” Jon said. “Does… she need a place to stay?”

 

“No! No of course not,” Robb said, “We’ve got that all covered, but… do you think - I know you’re busy and everything - but is there any chance you’d take her to dinner once a week? I’ll pick up the bill, of course, I just… want to make sure she’s seeing people and… eating and… that there’s someone there looking out for her.”

 

“Oh,” Jon said, scratching his head, “Isn’t Sansa like a social butterfly?”

 

“It’s been a while,” Robb said simply.

 

Jon felt like an idiot, of course the loss of her parents changed her. She’d only been nineteen when they died, far too young to lose them, far too young to become a mother to her siblings.

 

“You don’t need to pick up the bill,” he shook his head, “I’d be happy to take her to dinner, if she won’t mind. Not everything has changed - I’m still miserable company.”

 

“Thanks man,” Robb said on the other side, “I’m not driving her up - but we’ll get a drink when I visit her, yeah?”

 

“Sounds good,” Jon nodded, though Robb couldn’t see him, then asked, “Do you want reports?”

 

Robb chuckled on the other end and Jon groaned, knowing he was an idiot.

 

“They’ve trained you good, huh? Call me if there’s something I need to know, alright, otherwise I don’t want her to feel like you’re spying on her. But Jon?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I wouldn’t mind getting a call from you once a week anyway, or at all.”

 

Jon sighed, he deserved that. Robb was the best friend he’d ever had and he’d been a shit one when he needed him most.

 

If him having a meal with Sansa once a week was what he needed to feel okay, then he’d do it, of course he would.

 

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

 

***

 

“Robb that is so embarrassing!,” Sansa argued.

 

“It’s _Jon_ , Sansa,” Robb sighed, “He’s family, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

Her best friend Ella opened her mouth to say something and then clearly thought better of it, folding another sweater carefully and placing it in one of Sansa’s suitcases.

 

“What do _you_ think?,” Sansa asked her.

 

Both she and Robb turned to Ella who was very carefully organizing her suitcase to allow her to fit the most things. She continued folding for a moment, ignoring them and looked up sneakily to see if they’d lost interest but they hadn’t.

 

She sighed and stopped folding.

 

“Well on the one hand, I don’t blame Sansa for not thinking of Jon as family, she hardly knows him and, honestly, Molestown is only three hours away, where’s he been all this time?,” Ella asked quietly, her face frowning in sympathy. She turned to her though and said, “But at the same time, I like the idea of someone checking in on you every week, Sansa.”

 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Robb sighed.

 

“How would you feel if I asked Ella to check in on _you_ every week?,” Sansa argued.

 

Robb and Ella both blushed. They looked at one another briefly and then Ella started rearranging the whole suitcase while Robb wrapped a picture frame in far to much tissue paper.

 

“Sansa please,” Robb asked, “Please just let me -“

 

“Robb I have rugby practice,” her little brother Rickon said, coming into her room.

 

“Oh - yeah just one-,” Robb started.

 

“I’ll take him,” Ella said, getting off the floor.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Robb told her.

 

After two years you would think he would have learned that Ella didn’t mind helping out, didn’t mind making dinner for the kids on nights when he had to work late or she was tied up. Didn’t mind Arya calling her for a ride when she was drunk at a party because she didn’t want to call either of them. Didn’t mind helping Rickon with his literature homework or visiting their parents grave every Sunday morning with Bran. Even still, he always said the same thing.

 

_You don’t have to do that._

 

“Dude _shut up_ ,” Rickon growled, “I’m a fucking _legend_ every time Ellie drops me off.”

 

Ella snorted and Sansa smirked while Robb groaned. Rickon really was becoming more and more like Theon everyday. Robb’s best friend was a staple in their house as well and had rubbed off on the youngest Stark a little too much (though most days none of them knew what they’d do without him either).

 

Rickon loved Ella like a big sister, and would be the first to come to her defence if any of the locker room talk got out of hand, even still, he was fifteen years old and she was the most beautiful girl he and his teammates had ever seen.

 

“Come on, Little Wolf,” Ella said to her favorite Stark, “I’ll even stick around and make some freshman girls jealous if you want…”

 

“STOP ENCOURAGING HIM,” Robb called after them and they could hear Ella and Rickon’s laughter down the hall.

 

“Come on, Robb, are you really jealous of your fifteen year old brother?,” she asked with a raised brow, folding a few more pairs of jeans.

 

The attraction that Robb and Ella felt for one another was as obvious to everyone else as it was a mystery to each of them.

 

“Jea-no! Look can we get back to this?,” Robb asked, getting out of the chair he’d been sitting in. He crossed over to her and took the jeans out of her hands and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Look Dovey, you haven’t thought about yourself in two years. This program, is _more_ of that. I know it’s what you want and I know you’re going to be amazing at it but I’m not going to be there and Ella isn’t going to be there, even Theon won’t be and I just… You’re my lifeline, Dovey, I just need to know there is someone looking after you a bit.”

 

She looked up into his matching blue eyes. When the sternness came into them like that she could almost mistake them for their father’s deep brown. He’d become a father the moment he’d gotten the call about their parents accident and he gave her entirely too much credit.

 

If one meal a week with Jon Snow would help him sleep at night, she’d do it.

 

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?


	2. A Moveable Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahh thank you for such a fabulous reception! I hope you enjoy the second chapter...

Jon walked into the White Oak Tavern at 7:59.

 

He’d had to rush out of work, leaving a mountain of reports to look through and too many calls unreturned in order to make it on time. His colleagues had given him a fair amount of surprised looks as he walked out of his office at 7:27, a full two hours earlier than he’d leave on a normal night, but he didn’t mind.

 

He didn’t take holidays or weekends or sick days. He never had personal appointments or plans he wouldn’t break if something came up. This was different.

 

He looked around the large, open room, looking for the waifish girl with Tully red hair.

 

The truth was, he’d been dreading tonight. The girl he remembered had always had her head buried in fashion magazines, or was telling a story about some private island a friend of hers from boarding school knew. He had no idea what he was going to talk to her about once a week, small talk was not his strong suit, and they had nothing in common. 

 

He went up to the hostess and asked for a table for two and the girl lead him over to a small booth. He took the seat that faced the door and pulled out his phone, scrolling through emails.

 

“Jon?,” an out of breath voice asked.

 

He looked up from his phone and his mouth went dry. She was tall and slender, though her body had become more womanly in the past two years, and her face had become as beautiful as all her childhood prettiness had promised it would.

 

“Sansa,” he said in a voice he didn’t recognise, standing up.

 

She looked at him as though she was trying to rewind the clock as he was, reconciling the person standing in front of her with the one she’d known. She stepped forward and though he hadn’t expected it his arms reached out to hold her and she fell into them. 

 

They’d never been close. He hadn’t even hugged her when her parents died. Even still, she was the first bit of home he’d had in two years, a hard two years full of long days and setbacks and close encounters. He held her like she was the piece of home he’d been missing and she clung to him like she was happy to be found.

 

***

 

She couldn’t quite explain the reaction she’d had upon seeing Jon Snow. They’d never been close, she’d hardly thought about him in the past couple of years except with a sort of dull disapproval when Arya or Robb mentioned him.

 

It wasn’t that she expected everyone to be like Ella and Theon, who were at the house so often they may as well live there, helping the kids with their homework, cooking or doing dishes, making sure that she and Robb had a little fun. It was just that she had expected Jon to be.

 

He was Robb’s best friend, and one of Arya’s. Her little brothers adored him as well and discussed him with a reverence she’d never entirely understood. He was good, she knew that. And yet, when Robb had needed him most he’d stayed a couple hundred miles away.

 

Even still, it had been a hectic first week in Molestown. The apartment she’d rented was pretty and safe but full of quirky little inconveniences - like a shower that only ran piping hot or freezing cold and a stove that somehow burned everything. The program she’d started was intensive and it felt like she was somehow already behind.

 

So when she’d seen him, it had all kind of caught up with her and even if he hadn’t been back there in a couple years, he was still a piece of home so she’d fallen into his arms. His rather impressive arms she’d realised when he held her.

 

They settled in and she wondered briefly if she should have taken more care with her appearance. She’d come straight from a lecture and was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and jeans and no make up. Jon was wearing a suit and she felt a little underdressed.

 

He’d always been good looking, but the past few years had hardened his features turning into a man that suddenly made her wished she’d put on lipgloss.

 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said as she picked up her menu.

 

“It’s 8:03,” he told her in that gruff voice of his.

 

“I know! And I know you’re so busy and this is a _favor_ I just am still learning my way around here,” she said with a shake of her head.

 

Wintertown was based on a grid system, but up here, it was no man’s land with windy roads that changed their name halfway through. The citizens weren’t hugely helpful either, always saying _It’s just around the corner_ whether something was thirty feet away or two miles.

 

“No,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a hint of a amusement at the edge of his lips, “I mean…it’s 8:03, you’re not really late… And it’s a maze up here, it took me months to learn my way around.”

 

He gave her a small, kind smile and she looked back at her menu for something to do.

 

“What’s good here?,” she asked him.

 

He’d suggested the restaurant so she assumed he’d been here before.

 

“There’s a pretty good kidney pie -“

 

“Oh I love kidney pies, my old nanny used to make them with -“

 

“Peas and onions,” he finished and she looked up at him, “I remember.”

 

***

 

“You’re an idiot!,” Sansa raged at him.

 

“Oh _please_ ,” he dismissed her, “Their second album was way better than their first.”

 

“Yeah maybe if you like weepy sad- _ohhhhh_ ,” she said with a grin, “Now I get it.”

 

He chuckled at her, “You’re a smart ass, anyone ever tell you that, Stark?”

 

She shrugged as though people _had_ told her that, finishing off her glass of Arbor red.

 

Dinner had passed surprisingly quickly after the first few minutes of awkward back and forth, and he was having a hard time remembering why he was worried about what they’d talk about. They’d been talking so much that by the time he bit into his burger it was cold, which had never happened before. Usually on dates - NOT that that’s what this was - he ate his food and nodded along, listening, or at least pretending to, to whatever it was the girl was saying.

 

Sansa didn’t seem like the type of girl to stand for that behavior, and even if she were she was just so _wrong_ all the time that he couldn’t help but argue with her. She also got a really adorable flush to her cheeks when she disagreed with him. Which was all the time.

 

The waitress came and asked if they wanted another round and he pointed his beer at her and she bit her lip.

 

“I have an early class… I really shouldn’t…,” she said.

 

“Oh uh, yeah me too…,” he said and the waitress walked away, “I mean an early day.”

 

She gave him a smile and tucked her hair behind her ears, her index finger wandering the rim of her wine glass.

 

The waitress came back with the bill and after Sansa protested heavily she finally acquiesced and let him pay. They grabbed their coats and he lead her out of the restaurant into the cool night air. It was only September but there was always a chill up here and Sansa wrapped a scarf around her neck.

 

“Thank you, again,” she said with a small smile.

 

“It’s uh no problem,” he said.

 

“You can tell Robb that I ingested at least 2,000 calories,” she joked.

 

He chuckled and nodded, “He’d be happy to hear it, but… Sansa I’m not… this isn’t me spying on you.”

 

“Isn’t it?,” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

 

“I mean…,” he started, but he wasn’t really sure how to answer her. He decided the truth was as good an option as any. “If there was something that worried me, of course I’d pick up the phone and call Robb. But am I about to go and tell him you have _terrible_ taste in music? No…”

 

She giggled, “You’re a piece of work, Snow.”

 

“So they tell me, Stark,” he said. They grinned at each other and then the silence set about them once again. “Do you want me to walk you back?”

 

She shook her head, “I’m just around the corner, as the locals would say.”

 

It was a local habit, to suggest that things mile away was just around the corner. As if the mere admittance of distance was a sign of weakness.

 

“Alright then,” he nodded, “Next week?”

 

“Next week.”


	3. The Beautiful and Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love the reactions from their first dinner! This is definitely going to be a slow burn though so don't get *too* excited. I've updated the relationship tags as well. 
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!

Sansa settled into an oversized chair at Roast, a coffee shop she’d found that really _was_ just around the corner from her apartment.

 

She’d been there every morning for the past five so the barista had shown some surprise when she’d ordered a chai latte and a croissant instead of her usual coffee and lemon yogurt. It was Sunday though and she had every intention of enjoying herself and relaxing a bit.

 

It was the end of her first week in Molestown and she tried not to think about how later in the day her family would be settling in for Sunday dinner, talking about what the week would look like and catching up on their weekends.

 

She pulled out a case study from her bag, planning to distract herself with work. She’d only read two sentences when her phone rang.

 

“Ella!,” she exclaimed, as though they hadn’t spoken in weeks, when really they’d spoken yesterday afternoon.

 

“DoveyImissyou,” Ella said, her voice a bit breathy.

 

“What are you doing right now?,” Sansa giggled.

 

“Running, why?,” Ella asked.

 

She was a multitasker, and in truth she could accomplish more on a run than most people did all day. She claimed it was the endorphins, but it was really just Ella. 

 

“Just making sure you’re not doing _another_ kind of cardio,” Sansa teased and Ella let out a breathy chuckle. “How were Mum and Dad?”

 

“They were good, they say hello,” Ella said, as she always did when she came back from the graveyard, “Bran told them all about his scholarship. They’re very proud.”

 

“I know,” Sansa nodded, fighting tears. “So tell me, did you go out last night?”

 

“Oh! Yeah! Wait until you hear _this_ one,” Ella said and Sansa settled into her seat with a smile. That tone always meant a good story. “So I went out with Shireen to that new cocktail bar - you know the one we read about in the Times that looks like a glass garden? Anyway… we were there and we were talking to these really cute guys and then… oh ho ho,” Ella paused with a harsh chuckle, “Theon motherfucking Greyjoy comes up and guess who he had in tow? Your delightful older brother who I am going to skewer.”

 

Sansa giggled, imagining the scene vividly in her mind. Ella and Shireen would have been dressed up and gorgeous. The cousins were a dizzying tableau, Shireen was all wildfire and Ella pure roses. She could imagine Theon and Robb being there, trying to find girls to hit on, only to be distracted by the pair of Baratheon beauties and their irresistibility to all those around them.

 

“What did Robb do to gain your ire?,” she asked.

 

Ella was so rarely angry, and almost never on her own behalf, that it caused an almost sick fascination when she was. 

 

“The guy I was talking to was _so_ sweet, and he had these caramel eyes and then Robb sidles up next to me and says _What are you doing, Ella?_ and I said, _What does it look like I’m doing?_ and he said… oh boy, he said, _It looks like you’re wasting your time._ IN FRONT OF TRYSTANE. And then when Trystane was like _Look mate we’re just having a conversation_ Robb was like, with that stupid fucking grin of his - you know the one where he looks at you like he can see all the way down into your soul? He said _Are you?_ and then he just like… stared at him. And poor Trystane mumbled something and Robb - I swear Dovey it was a _growl_ and then Trystane walked away.”

 

Sansa bit her lip not wanting to laugh. She knew Ella was genuinely upset and more than that she was confused because Robb, for all his virtues, was a total idiot and wouldn’t just tell her that he had feelings for her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “He doesn’t mean to… he wouldn’t have done it trying to upset you.”

 

“Oh! I know! That’s the real kicker, he seemed genuinely confused that I was upset _-_ and _then_ he said, _You deserve a guy made of sterner stuff_. As if it was some kind of _test._ Like, what the actual _fuck_?”

 

_Well, the actual fuck is that he’s in love with you, you beautiful moron._

 

“He cares about you, El, more than you know, just… cut him some slack,” Sansa said.

 

“Fine, for your sake I will not murder him,” Ella said as though it was a great inconvenience, “He just… irritates me.”

 

_Yeah well thats’s because you’re in love with him too._

 

“Well that’s because he’s irritating,” Sansa offered instead.

 

Ella giggled on the other end and started to ask her a question.

 

“Excuse me,” someone said in front of her. She looked up and up to find an ungodly handsome man standing in front of her.

 

“Hold on El,” she said and said to him, “Yes? I’m sorry am I not allowed to be on my phone?”

 

“Oh, no! No, I just… there aren’t any empty tables left, do you mind if I join you?,” he asked.

 

She looked around, wondering if it was a line, but the coffee shop really was packed.

 

“Sure, of course you can,” she said with a smile. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him.

 

“IS HE CUTE?,” Ella asked, clearly having heard the conversation. “Cough if he’s cute.”

 

Sansa looked over his hazel eyes and square jaw, his oddly noble nose. He was wearing a sweater but she could tell he was firmly muscled underneath and he had a great broad chest and soft pillowy lips.

 

She started coughing uncontrollably.

 

“Are you okay?,” the man asked, “Can I get you some water?”

 

“What a gentleman,” Ella cooed in her ear. “Hang up and call me later. But call me baby when you do and see how he reacts.”

 

“No, no, thank you,” she said, because the man was looking at her like she might keel over on the table at any moment. “Okay well I don’t want to be rude,” she said into the phone, “I’ll call you later. Bye… baby.”

 

Ella squealed and hung up and Sansa let her eyes glance up to find the man glancing curiously at her before he went back to his newspaper. She gave him a small smile and then picked up her case study to read.

 

She realised after ten minutes that she had read the same sentence five times and hadn’t retained a single word. It wasn’t her fault though, she kept feeling his eyes on her.

 

Finally she set down the paper.

 

“Look if you’re going to distract me you might as well talk to me,” she said in a haughty tone.

 

He grinned at her and nodded, “That seems fair. And I’m sorry you’re just… well, the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

 

She narrowed her eyes and took a sip of her latte, “Well, as far as apologies go, that’s pretty good.”

 

He chuckled, “Was um, that your boyfriend on the phone?”

 

“My best friend,” she admitted and felt herself blushing. His whole face broke out into a smile that turned her insides to mush. It was as though he’d never heard news as good as that. “She and my brother are in love and are both too foolish to do anything about it.”

 

He nodded and said, “Let’s not make the same mistake. Can I take you to dinner this week?”

 

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

 

“I’d hardly agree to go out with a man when I don’t know his name…,” she prompted.

 

“It’s Dickon,” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. She placed hers in his and found it large and warm. “Tarly,” he said, not releasing her hand, “Now how about that date?”

 

***

 

Jon woke up at noon with a hangover and a girl in his bed. She was naked, just as he was, and he lifted her blonde hair out of her face. It was Val, thankfully.

 

Last night was a bit of a blur and he tried to piece it together. He’d been working until 10 and had met Sam at the Crow. Now that he thought about it, he remembered Val sidling up to him and putting a shot of whiskey down in front of him. He’d knocked it back and chased it with her lips.

 

There had been more whiskey and more kissing and more whiskey and more kissing. He thinks it was about 3 when they stumbled back to his apartment but he couldn’t really be sure.

 

His phone started blaring and she let out a deep moan of anguish. His head felt like it was about a thousand pounds but he got out of bed and searched in his pants pocket to find it, thinking it might be Mormont. His boss had left just before him last night and promised to call if he heard back from Thorne.

 

The caller ID said _Robb_ though.

 

He walked out his bedroom and into the sunfilled living room and answered groggily, “Ello?”

 

“You just waking up?,” Robb asked and he could hear his friend’s grin.

 

Robb was an early riser, always had been. As the CEO of his family’s multi-national company he was always on the phone with Essos at odd hours and Jon wasn’t sure that he’d slept more than four hours a night since his parents died as he was also now the sole guardian for his younger siblings.

 

“Late night,” Jon sighed, curling up in a ball on his couch and closing his eyes.

 

“She hot at least?,” another voice asked.

 

“Theon?,” Jon asked.

 

“What’s up you beautiful bastard?,” Theon shouted into the phone. He heard him and Robb arguing about the quality of Robb’s speaker phone and Jon was pretty sure that there were miniature versions of them in his head taking tire irons to his brain. “Answer the question, is she hot?”

 

“Yeah she’s gorgeous,” Jon said truthfully. Val was one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen. “And fucking wild.”

 

The pair of them chuckled on the other end of the phone and he found a grin tugging at his lips. He hadn’t seen them in far too long and the idea that they were together made him miss them both more.

 

“ _Nice_ ,” Theon said, “Had my own wildling last night.”

 

“Yeah it was really wild when Shireen slapped you across the face and got into a taxi with Ella,” Robb corrected making Jon chuckle.

 

“Wait, Ella like Sansa’s friend?,” Jon asked.

 

Sansa had told him all about her best friend over dinner, and he remembered her vaguely. They’d met at boarding school but while Sansa had gone south for university, Ella had come north. He remembered a beautiful girl with golden hair and a kind laugh.

 

“No, Ella as in the girl that Robb _loooooves_ ,” Theon teased.

 

“I do not _loooove_ her,” Robb argued in a way that made it painfully obvious that he did. “I just you know… she’s just… well you’re in love with Shireen!”

 

“Yeah, obviously,” Theon agreed. “That slap _oof_ that’ll keep me going through the holidays.”

 

Robb and Jon chuckled and he felt his headache dissipating with every moment.

 

“Hows Dovey?,” Theon asked.

 

“Dovey?,” Jon wondered.

 

“Sansa,” Robb explained, “She said you guys had dinner on Thursday?”

 

“Yeah, what’d she say?,” he asked.

 

There was some silence on the other end of the phone. He realised he’d asked that question a little eagerly and knew that to clarify now would only make it more suspicious.

 

“She said it was fun…,” Robb said finally and then added, “Said you have a man bun now.”

 

Jon couldn’t help but grin. She’d teased him about the man bun, asking him if he only drank deconstructed coffee and if he wore $400 flannel shirts.

 

“Yeah uh… glad lazy is finally in style,” he said.

 

“So how was she?,” Robb said, “Did she look like she was settling in?”

 

“She looked good,” Jon said and then closed his eyes, “I mean _yes_ she looked like she was settling in fine. She wanted me to assure you she ate 2,000 calories,” he chuckled, “But um… yeah…”

 

“She looks good, huh?,” Theon asked.

 

“Dude,” Robb reproached.

 

“ _Dude_ ,” Theon said back, “I love that girl like my baby sister alright? Wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole, but I’m not _blind_. And neither, apparently, is Jon.”

 

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, and sighed, “Really, it’s not. I mean, of course yeah she’s beautiful -“

 

“Dude,” Robb reproached.

 

“Who are you Stiffler?,” he asked, “Stop Duding everyone. I’m not touching your sister. It was at _your_ request that I had dinner with, remember?”

 

Robb sighed on the other end, “You’re right man, I’m sorry. I just… she’s an innocent, you know? And she’s far too beautiful for her own good. I can’t _stand_ not being there.”

 

“I get it,” Jon said, because he did. There was something about Sansa that made her seem like she came from a different age, like a heroine from a song or something, not that he’d ever tell _them_ that. “But I’m here, I’ll protect her, I promise.”

 

“Thanks, I know you will,” Robb said. “When are you seeing her next?”

 

“I think we decided Wednesday,” Jon said, feeling something fluttering in his stomach obnoxiously. “I think she is having some problem with her pipes so I told her I’d check them out after dinner.”

 

“ _Yeah_ you did,” Theon said, “Maybe she’ll check out _your_ pipe after dinner too.”

 

“Duuude,” he and Robb reprimanded.


	4. Far from the Madding Crowd

Jon wiped his palms on his suit pants and knocked on the door.

 

“ _COMING!_ ” he heard a voice yell and a moment later Sansa opened the door a bit breathlessly, but with a wide smile, “Hello Mr. Snow.”

 

“Hello Miss Stark,” he couldn’t help but grin.

 

“Come in, come in,” she said, stepping aside so he could enter her apartment.

 

He hadn’t really thought about what it would look like, but if he had, it would be exactly like this. It wasn’t very large, but she lived alone, and it had clearly been freshly painted and decorated. He grinned as he saw pictures of her and her siblings in frames all over the place, in spite of his stomach knotting uncomfortably.

 

“Are you sure you don’t mind the change of plans?,” Sansa asked him.

 

“‘Course not,” he said, “Besides I haven’t had a homemade meal in ages…”

 

Her face fell at that but then she smiled and said, “Well… I’ve never made this but I hope you’ll like it.”

 

“I’m sure I will,” he told her.

 

He wasn’t picky, and most of is meals came out of cardboard and plastic containers anyway. The idea that he was going to have a home cooked meal had gotten him through a few tough meetings today.

 

And to his utter dismay, so had the idea of seeing her.

 

He’d offered at the end of their dinner last week to look at her pipes, because apparently the building’s handyman was giving her the runaround - which he’d also offered to look into. She’d declined that offer but had taken him up on the pipes and had texted him earlier in the week to offer to make him dinner.

 

He’d taken her up on it readily. Theon had lamented on the phone on Sunday that it would be Robb doing the cooking because Sansa was gone and Ella was angry, so he took that to mean that Sansa’s cooking was good. Or at least better than Robb’s.

 

He handed her the bottle of wine he’d brought and she took it, ushering him into the kitchen. His heart stopped when he saw the kitchen table, which was already set, complete with lit candles.

 

She looked beautiful too, wearing a cream blouse and jeans, her hair up in a high ponytail and her lips painted a deep burgundy.

 

He wiped his palms on his pants again.

 

“Do you mind opening this?,” she asked him, handing him a corkscrew as though all was perfectly well.

 

“Sure,” he said gruffly.

 

She looked at him curiously and he tried his best at a smile, but he was pretty sure it came out as a grimace.

 

She turned around and went back to the stove and he sighed in relief, concentrating on opening the bottle of wine. That focus allowed his mind to clear and his senses took over.

 

“It smells incredible in here,” he told her honestly.

 

It smelled strangely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it and she turned to him and smiled, biting her lip and then turning away.

 

He poured them each a glass of wine and she turned towards him, a worried expression on her face.

 

“Can you sit down?,” she asked. He pulled out one of the chair and sat, raising his eyebrows at her. She smiled and blushed, “Okay will you just humor me and close your eyes?”

 

“You got a knife back there?,” he joked.

 

She giggled, “No, promise. Please?”

 

He nodded, he wasn’t entirely sure that he would deny her anything in that moment, and closed his eyes. He heard her moving things around and suddenly the smell got stronger.

 

“Okay, open!,” she urged.

 

It was a pot roast. He hadn’t had one in ages, not since the Starks had passed away at least.

 

Before that, it had been the meal his Mom always made him on special occasions.

 

“Sansa,” he said.

 

“Does it not look right?,” she frowned, “Arya sent me my Mom’s recipe but I don’t -“

 

“It looks perfect,” he told her honestly. “How -“

 

“Robb,” she said, looking at him with a worried expression. “He said it was your favorite?”

 

He nodded at her and she smiled, handing him a large carving knife. She went back to the stove and pulled out a dish of mashed potatoes and another of some sort of roasted carrots.

 

“You made a feast,” he said in disbelief, cutting the pot roast, “I… is there anything else here that needs fixing? Doesn’t seem like a fair trade.”

 

She sat down and to his surprise she was blushing. They filled up their plates and clinked glasses of wine.

 

He took a bite and fought the urge to moan, or maybe cry, he wasn’t entirely sure which. It was like a piece of home.

 

_And so is she._

 

***

 

He was like a piece of home.

 

She’d realised it after their first dinner, walking home in the cool autumn air but feeling oddly warm. There was a deep northern steadiness to him that comforted her, and she’d been looking forward to dinner all week.

 

Thankfully the pot roast had turned out alright, though if one was to believe Jon it was the greatest meal ever prepared. He’d gone into her bathroom to take a look at her shower afterwards and she’d settled on the couch and pulled out her phone.

 

_Sansa: Tell me you miss me._

 

_Ella: I MISS YOU DOVEY_

 

_Robb: You’re so needy. But seriously we are totally fucking lost without you._

 

_Theon: Speak for yourself, Stark. Though I do miss that grade-A booty._

 

_Ella: WATCH IT, GREYJOY._

 

_Robb: Thank you, Ella._

 

_Ella: Sansa, please tell Robb I am still not speaking to him._

 

_Robb: You are in my house, currently._

 

_Ella: Correction, I am in Bran and Rickon’s house._

 

_Robb: For fuck’s sake I’m LOOKING at you right now._

 

_Robb: Well that was not very mature._

 

_Theon: Tell me she flipped you off. PLEASE. I NEED IT._

 

_Ella: How’s your cheek, Greyjoy?_

 

_Theon: Want to kiss it better?_

 

_Sansa: WATCH IT, GREYJOY._

 

_Robb: I thought you had dinner with Jon tonight?_

 

_Sansa: I do, we just ate. He’s looking at my shower now._

 

_Ella: Ooh maybe the shower will turn on and his shirt will get all wet and clingy._

 

_Robb: What do you have a plumber fantasy?_

 

_Robb: Are you seriously not going to respond to me? When are you going to forgive me?_

 

_Ella: Well, have you ever considered apologising?_

 

_Sansa: YOU HAVEN’T APOLOGISED?_

 

_Robb: I did too._

 

_Ella: You said, and I quote, “I’m sorry that you have shit taste in men.”_

 

_Theon: Very heartfelt._

 

_Robb: Well I AM sorry about that._

 

_Robb: DID I JUST HEAR YOU GIGGLE, ELLA BARATHEON?_

 

_Ella: No. That was Shaggydog._

 

“What’s so funny?,” Jon asked as he came back into the room.

 

She set her phone down on the coffee table and said, “Our friends are idiots.”

 

“Theon?,” he asked with a grin, sitting down and picking up his glass of wine.

 

“And Ella and Robb,” she nodded.

 

“Does…,” Jon started but trailed off and took a sip of wine as though he hadn’t spoken.

 

“Does who what?,” she prompted.

 

“Does she love him back?,” he asked her.

 

She didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. Ella and Robb.

 

It had always been tricky being caught in between the two of them. They were the two people who had gotten her through the worst time of her life, the two people she relied on the most. Robb, her protective, kind, older brother and Ella, her selfless, sweet, best friend.

 

She knew Robb knew about his feelings. He denied them, of course, feigning that he was protective of Ella the way that he was of her, that his affection was brotherly, that any jealousy he felt towards boys she dated was merely fear that they would hurt her. Ella, though, she wasn’t so sure. It was entirely possible that her best friend, the brightest girl she knew, was completely oblivious to the way she felt about him.

 

But Sansa wasn’t.

 

“Yeah,” she nodded, “She loves him back. But you can’t-“

 

“And put him out of his misery?,” Jon asked with his crinkly-eyed smile, “Not likely.”

 

She laughed gently and nodded. For some reason she knew she could trust him, not only with her secrets, but with something more precious to her, Ella’s.

 

“It’s good though,” he nodded, “That… he has someone. Who loves him. Who… he deserves that. He…”

 

She wanted to ask him where he’d been. How he could abandon a friend who he clearly loved so much. She wanted to know what made him stay away, but she was afraid. She didn’t want to push him away, not when he was the only bit of home she had.

 

So instead she asked, with a forced lightness in her voice, “So what about you, Jon _Snoowww?_ Do you love anyone?”

 

He chuckled and shook his head, “Nope. Not sure I’m cut out for it.”

 

She rolled her eyes, “Everyone is cut out for love, Jon. You more than most.”

 

He turned to look at her and she flushed. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had said such a thing, it had simply rolled off her tongue, the way the easiest truths do.

 

“Thank you, Sansa,” he said, as though it had really meant something. “Not um… well, for everything the pot roast and…”

 

“I can look after you too,” she blurted out.

 

“What do you mean?,” he asked.

 

“Theon told me… about the promise you made to Robb. To protect me,” she admitted.

 

He nodded then shook his head, a small smile. “He’s a shit starter.”

 

“The original,” she agreed.

 

“You’re not quite as pissed as I imagined you might be,” he said.

 

“Oh it’s _horribly_ infantilising,” she noted, “But… well… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. If you let me look after you too.”

 

“By making my favorite meal?,” he asked with a sigh, as though he’d just realised something terrible.

 

“And reminding you that you deserve love, maybe even making you a sweater or two - black of course,” she teased. “I know we don’t know each other all that well, but, if there’s one thing I know about you it’s that you’re stubborn. I’ve got as good a chance of shaking you as I do… levitating this wine glass. So just get over it, alright? Fair’s fair, you look after me - I look after you. Come on… _let me_.”

 

“Okay, okay,” he said with a soft chuckle, “I’ll let you.”

 

She let out a little laugh and they fell into a comfortable silence. She liked that she didn’t feel the need to speak, to fill up the quiet. Her program was intensive and it felt like she spent all day talking and listening to people - being with him though, it was like being underwater, all the noise stopped.

 

They finished their wine and he stood up.

 

“I should go,” he said, “Thanks, again.”

 

“Thank you, again,” she returned.

 

She walked him towards the door and he picked up his suit jacket, pulling it on.

 

“So what do you have up for the rest of the week?,” he asked her, “I’m going to the pub with some friends on Friday if you want to join. We’re a bit boring but, you’re welcome to join us. My mate Sam’s girlfriend Gilly comes sometimes and she’s a sweetheart, I think you would get on.”

 

“Oh! Oh I’d love to, but can I take a raincheck?,” she asked. She blushed, “I kind of have a _date_.”

 

He straightened up and turned around, “A _date_? You’ve been here for five minutes.”

 

“Yeah well,” she shrugged, “I’m _pretty,_ what do you want me to say?”

 

He looked at her in what seemed to be annoyance and then she noticed that he was biting the inside of his cheek as though to keep from laughing.

 

“Alright well… you… if he… if you feel… text me when you’re home safe on Friday, alright?,” he asked, “Or if you need a ride or… or… just… fuck does Robb know about this?”

 

“It’s not like I need him to sign a permission slip,” she said primly. And then narrowed her eyes at him, “And don’t you go telling him, Jon Snow. I won’t have him rolling up with his merry band of idiots out of the blue.”

 

“Merry band of idiots,” he nodded, “Yeah that would ruin a date, wouldn’t it? Just promise me, Sansa. You’ll be smart?”

 

“It’s a _date_ , Jon,” she rolled her eyes, “I think working in the defence department has muddled your brain - not every situation is filled with creatures going bump in the night.”

 

He looked at her like he might launch into a lecture about all the creatures that _did_ go bump in the night. She put her hand on her hip to show him that she wasn’t interested. She had heard it all from Robb a million times before. That men were only interested in one thing and that they couldn’t be trusted no matter _what_.

 

“Trust me, Sansa,” he said, “It’s not my time in the defence department that’s making me nervous. I’m a guy, alright, and I know what guys think about when they take a girl like you out on a date. We are terrible, awful, people. Remember that.”

 

“You sound like Robb,” she spat at him.

 

“Thank you,” he spat back.

 

“I’m kicking you out now.”

 

“Sansa I just think,” he said as she started pushing him to the door. “Okay, wait are you actually, _ow_!”

 

She hadn’t meant for him to bang his elbow on the door but she was desperate to get him out of there. She was sick of being treated like a porcelain doll. She was made of sterner stuff than that now.

 

“Yes I am _actually_. I will see you next week, alright?,” she said.

 

“Just wait…,” he pleaded, holding the door open even though she was trying to push it shut. He was far too strong for her though and she gave up and leaned her cheek against it. “Look just… this is what I should have said. I think it’s wonderful that you are doing things for yourself, that you’re putting yourself out there and dating. After what you’ve been through… it takes a really strong person to do that and you deserve to find someone worthy of you, okay? All.. _all_ I am saying, is that if he proves anything _but_ worthy of you, I’ll flay him alive and feed him to my dog.”

 

She looked at him and he looked at her. He was somehow worse than Robb and Theon put together.

 

So she did the only thing she could think of and shut the door in his face.

 

***

 

_Jon: Did you know Sansa has a date?_

 

_Robb: What? No! Who?_

 

_Jon: I don’t know, some guy._

 

_Robb: For the love of the gods man, it’s your job to know!_

 

_Jon: Calm down. I’ll take care of it._

 

_Jon: Just don’t tell her I told you._

 

_Jon: Seriously DO NOT TELL HER I TOLD YOU._

 

_Robb: Calm down, I won’t tell her. She can be kind of scary, huh?_

 

_Jon: She practically threw me out of her apartment! I don’t think she needs anyone to protect her._

 

_Robb: But you’re still going to, right?_

 

_Jon: Obviously._

 

_***_

 

_Sansa: Boys are stupid._

 

_Ella: I was literally just texting you the same thing!_

 

_Ella: But wait - why have you joined my she-woman-man-hating club?_

 

_Sansa: Two words: Jon Snow._

 

_Ella: What did he do?_

 

_Sansa: He went all agro-kitten on me when I told him about my date._

 

_Ella: In what way?_

 

_Sansa: Just like, warning me to be careful._

 

_Ella: Asshole._

 

_Ella: How fucking dare he?_

 

_Sansa: I love you._


	5. Into the Wild

It occurred to Sansa halfway through their appetisers that she’d never really been on a date.

 

She hadn’t dated anyone since before her parents passed away, and before that she’d been at university and boarding school, where boys considered it a date if you came to their football games.

 

Even if she had been on plenty of dates though, she was sure that this would be considered one of the good ones.

 

Dickon had been an absolute gentleman since he’d picked her up at her apartment. He’d gone a bit slack-jawed when he saw her in her navy blue dress, telling her that she looked beautiful and helping her into her coat. He hadn’t touched her on the walk over to the restaurant except when they were on cobblestones and he held onto her arm as she navigated them in her heels.

 

He’d been polite to the maitre’d and the waiter and had pulled out her chair for her and offered to split the tuna tartare when she’d mentioned it was her favorite. He’d even manfully tried a bite before laughing at himself and pushed the plate towards her.

 

“So you’ve got… what’s that… four siblings?,” he asked her before taking a sip of his wine.

 

“Yep,” she nodded, “Three brothers and a sister. All wilder than the last.” He chuckled and nodded and she asked, “And you?”

 

“I’ve a younger sister, Talla…,” he said with a smile, “She’s… well, she’s the sweetest girl in the entire world. Only sixteen, so I’m a bit nervous for what’s to come but uh,” he said and she smiled dreamily. For some reason, him being a protective older brother was cute, whereas Robb, Theon and Jon only managed to annoy her. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that Jon and Theon were not actually her brothers. He cleared his throat and said, “And an older brother, Sam.”

 

She took a sip of wine and looked over at him. He smiled at her but loosened his collar a bit.

 

“Forgive me, Dickon, but… is everything alright with you and your brother?,” she asked. He looked at her nervously and she placed her hand on his, going on as gently as she could, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry… I only mean that… we can sit here and talk about our favorite movies and the next vacation we want to take if you’d like, but… we can also talk about anything we want.”

 

He smiled at her and patted her hand before picking up his fork and pointing it at her, “I think you chose the right program, Sansa Stark. You could pull secrets from the dead. The truth is, and please, try not to think of me too harshly here - I am quite close with my father. Sam has always been closer with my mother. We have a family company, Tarly Corporation, it’s been in my family for generations - a bit like Stark Industries - I assume your older brother is _Robb Stark?_ -,” she nodded and he gave her a sad smile, which told her he knew everything, or at least enough, and went on, “And tradition has always stated that it goes to the eldest son, Sam.”

 

She nodded, that was something she understood. Robb had always made it perfectly clear to her and all her siblings that there were places at Stark Industries for all of them should they want them, Arya was even interning a few days a week currently, but it was always understood that he was going to take over the reins from their father, even before he passed away.

 

It was antiquated, she supposed, but it was the way it was done and she’d never really questioned it, not when Robb had been raised in their father’s image, not when he was bright and capable and hardworking and loyal to the company and his employees. 

 

“It must be difficult for you,” she said sympathetically, “I never really had much of an interest in Stark Industries, but I can imagine if I did I would have felt a bit… well I suppose I would have hoped that my father and Robb would bring me into it, if I had shown an interest.”

 

“Well, that’s the thing,” Dickon said, “My father did bring me into it. He’s… well, he’s not an _easy_ man, my father and he and Sam have never really gotten on. He… he made it clear when I was about sixteen that I’d be taking over when the time came.”

 

She tried to imagine her or Arya or Bran or Rickon usurping Robb’s position. Even though it was antiquated, it would be a betrayal.

 

“That must have been very hard for the two of you,” she said as diplomatically as she could.

 

It wasn’t her place to have opinions on the inner workings of his family.

 

“It was,” he nodded, “Sam… he… I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear about this. Not exactly romantic.”

 

“I prefer real to romantic,” she told him honestly.

 

She smiled at their waiter when he cleared their appetisers and turned her attention back to Dickon.

 

“It, well let’s just say it’s been an uphill battle, but it’s been… gods it’s been eight years now, and… he and my father still don’t get on very well but recently he and I have really turned a corner,” he said, his whole face lighting up.

 

She couldn’t help smiling back at him, “That’s wonderful. Really, it is.”

 

“I think so too,” he said and raised his wine glass towards her, “So Sansa Stark, where do you want your next vacation to be?”

She giggled and told him about she was dying to see Volantis, and he told her all about the hotel she had to stay at when she went, and the market where the locals shopped.

 

They did talk about their favorite movies, but about her parents too, and her program, they talked about all kinds of things all through dessert and when they got up from the table it didn’t feel presumptuous that Dickon placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her into the night air.

 

They turned towards one another and smiled, and it seemed entirely impossible that a man as handsome as he, and as large and masculine, was so gentle and kind as well.

 

There was a mist in the air and it danced around the street lamps, casting everything in a hazy glow, and his nose was a little red from the cold and the wine in her veins was keeping her warm.

 

“So I know you prefer real to romantic,” he said, taking her hand in his,he smiled down at her sheepishly, “But would you settle for both?”

 

She giggled, because it was a lame line, but nodded, because she knew what was coming next and she was ready.

 

He folded her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. They felt nice, nicer than any boy’s ever had, and she kissed him back, relishing in how lovely it felt to be held and the hitch of his breath when her lips closed around his bottom one.

 

They pulled apart and he grinned at her stupidly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He took hold of her hand and they started walking down the street.

 

“Do you feel like another drink somewhere?,” he asked.

 

“Sure,” she nodded, because she liked how small her hand felt in his and she wouldn’t mind catching that hitch once more.

 

“I think there is a good wine bar in this area, hold on,” he said and took out his phone.

 

He looked down at it and clenched his jaw before starting to swipe.

 

“Is everything alright?,” she asked.

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “It’s um… just my older brother…Sam? He asked if I wanted to meet him for a drink.”

 

“Oh!,” she said, trying to mask her disappointment, “Well you should go - we can grab a drink this week…”

 

“No, no way,” he shook his head, “There’s no way I’m leaving you but - well… would you want to maybe meet up with him?” She looked at him with a bit of a worried expression. It was a little too soon, to meet the family. His eyes registered it and he said, “No no it won’t be like an intense thing, he’s out with a group of his friends. They are just down the street actually and they are really fun… I mean some of them might actually be crazy but… it’s always a good time. And Sam’s girlfriend is really nice…”

 

Something about that last statement gave her pause, like a bit of deja vu, though she couldn’t place the root of it. Even still, she thought about what she would do if she were home and if Arya was out with Ella and Shireen and Gendry, she wouldn’t have hesitated bringing him along.

 

“I’d love to,” she said.

 

***

 

“I think this is the week that Thorne will _actually_ kill me,” Sam said as they settled into the large booth at The Crow.

 

Grenn and Pip were already settled there and Edd and Tormund were at the bar grabbing more drinks.

 

“That feels a bit dramatic, no?,” Jon teased.

 

“Dramatic?,” Sam challenged, “He said, and I _quote_ ‘Looks like this piggy’s almost ready for slaughter’ WHAT ELSE COULD HE MEAN BY THAT?”

 

“That you’re _fat_ ,” Grenn offered.

 

Jon tried not to laugh but the way Sam was sputtering was too good.

 

He took a sip of his beer and listened to them prattle on about the new team they’d be working with from Eastwatch. He hadn’t heard much about them, except that Qhoran was a legend. He trusted Mormont, and Mormont trusted Qhoran so that was good enough for him.

 

Edd and Tormund came to join them and the booth got entirely too crowded so they moved back to the bar, where they could take turns playing darts.

 

“GILLY!,” he heard behind him and he turned to see Tormund picking up Sam’s girlfriend in a bear hug.

 

She grinned and hugged him back before going over to kiss Sam and accept the glass of whiskey he’d ordered for her. Jon handed his darts to Edd and went over to him.

 

“Jon!,” she said happily, kissing his cheek.

 

“Hi honey,” he said, wrapping an arm around her.

 

He’d had a bit to drink, it’d been a long week and he and his friends liked to blow off steam knowing that next week would be a long one too. They all were long. He loved Gilly dead sober though, she was so good for Sam and an absolute sweetheart.

 

“So is she coming?,” Gilly asked him excitedly.

 

“Who?,” Sam asked, his face falling, “Not Val…”

 

“What’s wrong with Val?,” he asked, sipping his whiskey.

 

“She set Tormund on FIRE!,” Sam bellowed at him.

 

“HE ASKED HER TO,” he bellowed back.

 

That one had been a wild night. They were all wild when Val was around. She didn’t do _boring_ and she didn’t have any trouble starting the party all on her lonesome. She had the perfect mixture of beauty and recklessness - it could prove irresistible in the right circumstances.

 

“Not for nothing but I don’t mean Val,” Gilly pointed out, which Jon had known. Gilly and Val did not understand one another. “I mean that sister of your friend from home. What’s her name again? It’s pretty… is it Sally?”

 

“Sansa,” he corrected. They both looked at him oddly. “What?”

 

“Say that again,” Sam prompted him.

 

“Sansa,” he repeated. They exchanged a look between the two of them and he glared at Sam. Sam gave him an innocent smile and made some sort of _ah well_ sound and a shrug, taking a sip of his drink. He shook his head and turned back to Gilly, “And she’s got a date tonight.”

 

“Wow, that was quick,” Sam said.

 

“She’s pretty, what can I say?,” he quoted Sansa defeatedly.

 

He’d been trying not to think about her on her date this evening. He’d resisted the urge to text her to remind her that she could call him if she needed anything, that he could be to wherever she was in minutes, that she shouldn’t hesitate, that she should call him at the first sign of something odd, that he wouldn’t mind, not one bit.

 

The look on her face before she’d slammed the door in his the other night stopped him though. He didn’t want her to feel as though he was _infantilising_ her as she’d said. It wasn’t about that, he’d meant what he’d said to Robb, he wasn’t sure that she needed anyone looking out for her. She was strong and capable and he _knew_ it, but rational thought didn’t stand a chance against her ordering him to close his eyes before she’d set down his favorite dish or the way her eyes always got a little cloudy when she spoke about her parents or the feel of her soft hair against his cheek when they hugged.

 

 _She’s a Stark, that’s all it is_.

 

Gilly nodded and offered sweetly, “Well I hope she’ll come around soon.”

 

He nodded and sipped his drink, asking her about her students as Sam tapped away on his phone.

 

“All good, baby?,” Gilly asked him.

 

“Yeah!,” Sam assured her with a big smile, “Dickon’s coming.”

 

Gilly met his eyes briefly before she plastered a big smile on her face, “Oh that’s wonderful!”

 

Jon nodded encouragingly as well, though he couldn’t fake it quite like Gilly could. Dickon had come out with them a few times, and at face value he was a nice guy, friendly. Even still, Jon had known Sam for over two years now and he couldn’t forget the night Sam had told him everything that had happened with his family’s company. He knew it was Sam’s father’s fault, but Dickon could have done something and he didn’t. It was hard to get past something like that.

 

But Sam wanted to, because he wanted a relationship with his brother, and as an only child that was something Jon could understand.

 

“Yeah he’s just down the street, he’s bringing some girl with him, says she’s incredible,” Sam nodded.

 

“Oh how lovely,” Gilly cooed, “I didn’t realise he was dating anyone.”

 

“I didn’t either,” Sam shrugged, “Not that it’s terribly surprising.”

 

Dickon was a good looking guy, and due to his betrayal, was second in command at one of the largest companies in the north.

 

“Oh, there he is,” Gilly pointed.

 

He wasn’t really sure how she saw to the door because the bar was crowded, but he wasn’t terribly curious so he just turned to the bar to get another drink.

 

“Hells bells, boys,” Tormund said and he looked up at him.

 

Tormund noddedin the other direction and he turned.

 

There was Dickon Tarly, wearing a grey suit, looking like an off-duty superhero with his date in tow. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen when she was make-up free and dressed down, but the sight of her in her navy blue dress could turn a man mad. And he could attest to the fact, that yes, she was incredible.

 

“Hey guys,” Dickon said, kissing Gilly’s cheek, “This is -“

 

“Sansa?,” he asked incredulously.

 

***

 

The bar was crowded and it reminded her of the pubs she’d go to with Robb and Theon when she and Ella weren’t in the mood to dress up, when they all just wanted to sit and laugh and nobody was looking for anyone to flirt with.

 

She loved it.

 

She liked the way Dickon kept her hand snugly in his, leading her through the bar. He was so large that the crowd seemed to part for him and she couldn’t help but place her other hand on his large bicep, smiling up at him when he turned to grin at her.

 

He brought them over to the bar, and it was a bit unclear who was with the group of people and who wasn’t, so she just smiled at the pretty girl that Dickon kissed on the cheek.

 

“Hey guys,” he said, “This is-“

 

“Sansa?,” an incredulous voice asked.

 

She turned to it and her jaw dropped. There was Jon Snow, the top button of his dress shirt undone and the sleeves rolled up, with a glass of whiskey and a furrowed brow.

 

She forgot immediately about being annoyed with him and detached herself from Dickon.

 

“Jon!,” she exclaimed, crossing the distance to him and hurdling herself into his arms.

 

His arms came around her immediately and she burrowed into him for a moment. Something in her heart constricted and she couldn’t really understand what it was.

 

_He’s just a bit of home._

 

They pulled apart but her arms were still resting on his shoulders and his were still around his waist. It was dark in the pub but she could tell he was blushing.

 

 _Of course, I’ve embarrassed him in front of his friends_.

 

“Sorry,” she said, removing herself from his arms, “I’m just really excited to see you!”

 

His lips didn’t smile, but his eyes did, a peculiar habit of his.

 

“Why are you sorry about that?,” he asked, swiping her nose with his finger, “What do you want to drink?”

 

“Oh um… vodka on the rocks with a wedge of-,” she started.

 

“Lemon?,” he guessed with a grin and turned back to the bartender and ordered.

 

She turned to smile at Dickon but found there was a group of people all looking at her curiously.

 

“I’m Sansa,” she offered.

 

“Sansa! _Delighted_ to meet you,” a large man with a kind face said, “I’m Sam.”

 

“Sam! So nice to meet you,” she said and offered her hand which he shook. “Dickon told me all about you and your _lovely_ girlfriend - Gilly is it?”

 

“That’s right, we’ve been hearing all about you too,” Gilly nodded. “From Dickon but um… from Jon too…”

 

Her cheeks flamed and for some reason she felt a stab similar to guilt in her stomach. She shook it off and smiled at the rest of them, who introduced themselves as Tormund, Edd, Grenn and Pip. It was a motley crew indeed.

 

“Here you go, Stark,” Jon said, his arm coming from behind her, around her waist to offer her the drink.

 

“Thanks, Snow,” she said and took a sip.

 

She went to stand next to Dickon and he grinned down at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. It felt heavy. But nice, too, she supposed.

 

Dickon started chatting with Sam and Gilly came over to her. Dickon and Jon were both right, she was an absolute dear. She taught fourth grade and they got to talking about everything from education to where the best flea markets were in the city.

 

After a little while, Jon came over to join them.

 

“So what do you think of this place?,” he asked her.

 

He threw his arm around her and she knew that his face was now flushed for a different reason. Jon Snow was a little bit drunk.

 

“I like it,” she smiled, “I mean it’s no Torrhen Arms… but what can be?”

 

“Gods I love that place,” Jon shook his head, he turned to Gilly and said, “This pub Gilly… back home it’s just…”

 

“Home,” Sansa offered and he grinned down at her. “Ella is going tonight, I’m so jealous but she promised to say hello to Jory for me.”

 

“Ella?,” Jon asked curiously.

 

She nodded up at him and he did that eye smile thing again.

 

“Oy, King Crow, it’s a wildling invasion,” the man who’d introduced himself as Tormund said.

 

“Huh?,” Jon asked.

 

Tormund nodded towards the doorway and Sansa turned to see a group of girls making their way towards the bar. One of whom was one of the prettiest girls she’d ever seen. Definitely the sexiest.

 

Jon dropped his hand off her shoulders, and she felt a sudden chill without it. She didn’t have much time to think on that though because Gilly took hold of her hand and took her to the bar.

 

“Daario? We’re going to need six shots of tequila please!,” Gilly shouted to the bartender.

 

“Are they friends of yours?,” Sansa wondered, thinking that she’d want to get a round for the girls, “I think there are seven of them.”

 

“No,” Gilly shook her head, “They are not my friends, these shots are for us.”

 

Before she had a chance to question it, Daario set down the six shots in front of them and Gilly picked up two, handing one of them to her.

 

“Trust me,” Gilly urged, “You and I are going to be great friends, so I promise it’s alright.”

 

Sansa giggled and clinked her shot glass against Gilly’s. She was in no position to be turning down friends, and when Gilly’s hand grabbed her’s as the tequila went down her throat, she squeezed it back.

 

***

 

She was wearing a black dress that seemed painted on with a plunging neckline and her eyes were glimmering with destruction.

 

“Val,” he greeted her.

 

She didn’t say anything, she just took his face in her hands and kissed him. She tasted like whiskey and he knew he did too, and he kissed her a moment longer than was reasonably appropriate. Though he resisted the urge to grab her butt, which was something.

 

“Who’s the princess?,” Val asked, gesturing behind him.

 

Jon’s stomach turned. He hadn’t really thought about introducing Val and Sansa and now that it was an impending certainty he realised he really didn’t _want_ to introduce Val and Sansa.

 

“Oh uh,” Jon mumbled.

 

At that moment Sansa and Gilly turned towards them, Sansa’s arm was wrapped around Gilly’s shoulders and Gilly was chuckling against her neck. Sansa had a giddy smile on her face and he looked at her curiously.

 

Something about that look was incredibly funny to Sansa because she covered her mouth and sputtered out a laugh, her temple falling against Gilly’s head.

 

“Are they alright?,” Val asked.

 

“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly.

 

Sansa straightened up and dragged Gilly over to them.

 

“Hiyeee,” Sansa turned to Val, “I’m _Sansa Stark_ , it is so nice to meet you.”

 

“Val,” Val returned.

 

“Apparently it _isn’t_ nice to meet you,” Gilly said to Sansa and Sansa’s lips fell into a surprised _O_ and she clamped her hand around Gilly’s mouth.

 

“Sorry… it’s crazy what three shots of tequila in a minute and a half will do to a girl,” Sansa said, which caused Gilly to start laughing again.

 

“Seven hells,” Jon chuckled.

 

He had only seen Gilly good and drunk once before but it appeared that tonight would be the much anticipated encore.

 

Gilly dragged Sansa away, and he saw the two girls rejoining the Tarly brothers. Sam looked concerned as Gilly pressed rapid fire kisses to his cheeks and Dickon chuckled as Sansa leaned up and whispered in his ear. He didn’t miss the way Sansa’s hand held onto Dickon’s arm or the way she closed her eyes and smiled when Dickon whispered something back in her ear.

 

“Hello?,” the beautiful girl in front of him said.

 

“Hi,” he said, “It’s good to see you.”

 

Val narrowed her eyes at him then took his hand and dragged him to the bar. She ordered a few shots of whiskey and he turned towards Sansa. He made a drinking motion with his hand and she shook her head. She pointed at Val and gave him a thumbs up, biting her lip as though to say _Nice work_ and he blushed and nodded.

 

He turned back to Val when she put a shot in his hand and he tossed it back.

 

“So,” she said with a smile, her eyes alight, “I’m thinking we drink another couple of these and go back to my place.”

 

“Let’s stay and hang out,” he suggested, “Everyone’s here.”

 

“Everyone?,” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

He felt something similar to guilt deep in his stomach but he nodded.

 

She eyed him and then stepped closer, placing her hands on his chest and pressing her body to his. She felt good, really good, but a bit strange too.

 

“You know what the problem with _everyone_ being here is?,” she asked him.

 

“I can guess, but why don’t you tell me,” he suggested.

 

She was always horny, it made cocky.

 

She smiled at him and leaned up and whispered in his ear, “That I can’t feel that magic tongue of yours on my wet cunt.”

 

Yep, that could _definitely_ make a man cocky.

 

“Patience,” he growled in her ear. “You know I can’t resist that cunt for very long…”

 

She started to say something but his phone vibrated in his pants pocket. He grabbed it and found he had a text from Robb.

 

_Robb: Have you heard from Sansa?_

 

_Robb: I’m kind of freaking out about this date. I know it’s only ten but she said she’d text me when she got home and she hasn’t text me yet._

 

_Jon: Don’t worry man, she’s here actually. Her date was with the brother of a buddy of mine from work. She’s all good, though I think she’s had too many tequila shots. Though I’ve had too many whiskey shots, so who knows?_

 

_Robb: That was more words than I think you’ve ever spoken._

 

_Robb: But okay good, I’m glad. You’ll see her home though, right? I don’t want some guy she hardly knows taking her home if she’s been drinking that much._

 

Val was tracing her nails up his back, her lips on his neck. He wanted her, he did, she was impossible not to want, but even still, he didn’t hesitate.

 

_Jon: Of course I will, don’t give it another thought._

 

_Robb: Thanks man, I owe you._

 

_Jon: Prepare to owe me double: Ella is at Torrhen Arms tonight. You didn’t hear it from me though._

 

_Robb: DID YOU EVER KNOWWW THAT YOU’RE MY HEEEEERO?_

 

_Jon: You’re an idiot. Go tell her. That way next Friday you won’t have to hear where she is from me._

 

_Robb: What if she doesn’t love me back?_

 

_Jon: What if she does?_

 

“Look Val,” he sighed, “I’m not going to be able to take you home tonight.”

 

“You’re in _no_ state to go into work,” she told him, familiar with him leaving her bed at all hours to head into the office.

 

“No, I know, I’ve just got to do something for a friend,” he explained, though that wasn’t even close to the reason he’d agreed to take Sansa home.

 

As soon as he thought about it he had realised there was no way he’d let her walk out the door with Dickon. 

 

“This friend,” Val said, “Is she prettier than me?”

 

His eyes unwillingly went to Sansa. Her head was tossed back, laughing at something that Sam was telling her, showing off her long elegant neck, her auburn hair spilling like a waterfall behind her.

 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, the _princess_?,” Val asked with a scorn he’d never seen before. She was wild, outspoken, not particularly kind, but he’d never seen her spiteful before. “What are you going to do with _her_?”

 

“No, no,” he shook his head, willing her to calm down, “It’s not like that. We grew up together, she’s like my little sister.”

 

“Little-,” Val broke off into a harsh chuckle, “Honey, I sure as _fuck_ hope that no one looks at their little sister the way you just looked at her. I’m out of here, call me when you get your head out of your ass.”

 

With that she stormed off. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be upset, only vaguely worried. Between the way Sam and Gilly had looked at him when he’d said Sansa’s name to Val’s reaction to him just… _glancing_ over at her, it was entirely possible that he was a bit more in trouble than he’d thought.

 

***

 

_MEANWHILE…_

 

“Okay but Shy, I really can’t have a late night, I’ve got a huge paper to write,” Ella said as their drinks arrived a little before ten.

 

“That’s what you always say,” Shireen said knowingly, taking a sip of her old fashioned.

 

“Because it’s _always_ true,” Ella smiled, trying her martini.

 

The cousins were at one of their favorite bars, Torrhen’s Arms, which was really just an upscale pub where the bartenders didn’t mind making cocktails but was still laidback enough that they didn’t feel odd coming in their jeans and sweaters as they were now.

 

They’d always been close, being raised more like sisters than anything else, but were spending more time together than ever now that Sansa was gone and Shireen had broken up with her boyfriend.

 

“I think tonight is the night that I make out with a cute boy,” Shireen said.

 

She said that often, and she was always right. As though she had summoning powers, a pair of cute boys came over to them.

 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Baratheon beauties,” Harry Hardyng said with that cocky grin.

 

“Harold,” she said pointedly, and turned to his companion with a smile, “Willem.”

 

“Hiya Princess,” Willem, the sweeter of the two said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

 

They had known one another since they were kids down south, but they all went to University together now and despite Harry’s ego they were good friends.

 

“Why’ve you never agreed to go out with me, Shireen?,” Harry asked, leaning into her.

 

“Because you’ve never asked properly,” Shireen answered flirtatiously.

 

“ _Ten bucks says she tosses her drink in his face by night’s end_ ,” Willem whispered in her ear.

 

“I’ll take that action,” she giggled, cheersing him.

 

“Do you _know_ what I would do to you?,” Harry asked Shireen.

 

Ella resisted the urge to gag as Shireen answered. She didn’t need to be here for this conversation.

 

She turned to Willem, “Can we go-“

 

“Anywhere else? Yes,” Willem agreed.

 

She waved to Shireen and she and Willem moved further down the bar. They chatted about a few of the classes they shared and what he was going to do for Thanksgiving. He told her about the latest scandal his crazy older brother had brought upon the family and she laughed along. She’d been there with Joffrey a time or two, though his scandals usually went along with legal battles - Willem’s older brother Ryan was a bit more wild but all together kinder, so his stories tended to involve waking up in Dorne with a wife, who was a different girl than the one he’d gone on vacation with in the first place.

 

She finished her martini and he ordered her another along with his scotch.

 

“So, Ella,” Willem started.

 

“Willem,” she nodded.

 

“Not to sound like Harry but… why’ve you never agreed to go out with me?,” he asked with his teen dream smile.

 

“Oh Willem,” she sighed.

 

She took a sip of her martini and placed it down on the bar and looked up at him to see if he was kidding, or if he wanted to pretend like he had been. He was looking down at her earnestly though, like it didn’t make any sense that the two of them weren’t together.

 

In truth, on paper they were perfect for one another. They’d grown up together and had always gotten along. He was fun and handsome and a great dance partner. They liked the same bands and never ran out of things to talk about.

 

Even still, when she looked at him she saw a friend and nothing more.

 

“I…,” she started, but then she saw Robb Stark walking purposefully over to them. She didn’t think, she just shouted, “NO!”

 

“Ella - I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” Willem said quickly.

 

“Not you,” she tried to say sympathetically but turned to Robb, who had not been deterred, “YOU! Walk away.”

 

“Ella,” he started.

 

“Absolutely not, Stark,” she argued, “What do you have some kind of _honing_ device on me?”

 

“What? No, of course not,” Robb said like she was crazy even though he shifted nervously. He turned away from her and looked at Willem dead in the eye, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

 

“I uh…,” Willem started.

 

“Don’t answer that,” she ordered Willem and then turned to Robb, “How _dare_ you interrupt a private conversation that I am having and act as though _he_ is the interloper? You really are _impressive,_ I’ll tell you that much.”

 

“El -,” Robb started.

 

“Maybe I should leave you guys to it,” Willem offered.

 

“No,” she said, putting her hand up and getting off the bar stool, “You stay,” she turned to Robb, “And _you_ stay. I’ll go.”

 

She didn’t give either of them time to say anything and she went over and waved to Shireen who was looking very happy and cozy with Harry. She walked out into the cool autumn air and felt the urge to scream.

 

It was bad enough that she thought about Robb all the time, even _dreamed_ about him sometimes, did he really have to show up everywhere? Their interactions haunted her for days and she couldn’t take it anymore.

 

“Ella wait up!,” he called from behind her.

 

“No! Though I don’t know why I’m bothering to walk away at all, since you’ll just show up the next time another boy is within fifteen feet of me!,” she yelled at him, not turning around.

 

“I didn’t come here to make you angry,” he said.

 

She could tell that he’d stopped walking and she walked a few more paces stubbornly. Curiosity got the better of her though.

 

“Then why did you come?,” she asked as she turned around. He was standing there in the street, fifteen paces away, looking perfect and sorry and she couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you always show up the _exact moment_ a boy is talking to me?”

 

“Because I don’t want boys talking to you,” he told her, as though it were obvious, which it was.

 

The only question was: “Why?”

 

He started walking over to her slowly, as though he was afraid she might turn and run.

 

“Because I like that you visit my parents’ grave every Sunday with Bran, and no matter what he always comes back smiling. And I like the way you never let Rickon pretend that he’s too stupid to understand his reading assignments. And I like the way you bring Arya home to Winterfell instead of to the dorms when she calls you after she’s had too much to drink. I like the way I can always tell that you were the one to make dinner when I walk into the house and it smells like butter.”

 

“But you always tell me not to do those things,” she said dumbly.

 

“No,” he said, closing the final steps, “I tell you that you don’t _have_ to do those things,” he corrected her, brushing the hair out of her face. “And I like that you do them anyway, because you love my family and they love you. And I like that you always get a little divet right here,” he said, pressing his index finger to her forehead, “When I make you angry and I like that I know that. I think I know just about everything there is to know about you and the thing about knowing a girl like you is that you can’t _help_ but fall in love with her, it isn’t a choice, it’s just what happens. So I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t want you to talk to boys because I want you to be with me, because I love you. I love you and I have been loving you for so long.”

 

“As far as reasons go,” she allowed, as she died of happiness inside, “That’s a pretty good one.”

 

He chuckled and took her face in his hands, “So what do you say, Baratheon, can I buy you a drink?”

 

“In a minute, Stark,” she said against his lips.

 

***

 

It was hours and too many shots later when she looked down at her phone and saw that it was 3 am.

 

Sam had taken Gilly home a while earlier and they’d parted with promises of brunch on Sunday, and Sam promising to remind Gilly that she’d made the plan.

 

She was standing at the bar with Dickon and Pip a bit away from Jon, Tormund, Grenn and Edd who were all playing darts. Jon hadn’t said much to her since that girl, _Val,_ had stormed out in a fit of apparent rage, but she’d been having fun getting to know his friends. Even still, it had been a long week and it was 3 am.

 

“I should probably get home,” she said to Dickon, focusing very hard on making sure the right words came out of her mouth.

 

Dickon looked at his watch and chuckled, “This has gotta be the longest first date of all time. I’ll walk you back.”

 

She nodded, “I’m just going to go say goodnight to Jon and the guys.”

 

“I’ll grab the bill and your coat,” he said.

 

He was such a gentleman. And very handsome. A very handsome gentleman.

 

“You’re a very handsome gentleman,” she told him.

 

He chuckled at her again and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek, “And you’re a very beautiful girl, Sansa Stark.”

 

She smiled at him and walked towards the other end of the bar.

 

“Well, well, well,” Tormund said, “You decided to ditch Tarly for me? Wise choice, beauty.”

 

She giggled and took his chin in her hand, “You couldn’t handle me, Giantsbane.”

 

This struck Tormund as hilarious.

 

“Alas, friends and enemies,” she said, wobbling a bit and grabbing onto Tormund, “It appears it is time for me to go home. I wish you all good fortune in the wars to come, and you should totally join me and Gilly for brunch on Sunday.”

 

“Night boys,” Jon said, finishing his drink. He turned to her and said, “Do you have your coat?”

 

“Dickon is grabbing it for me,” she told him, “Are you heading out too?”

 

“I’ll take you home,” he offered.

 

“Oh that’s so sweet of you, but Dickon is taking me,” she assured him, “Stay and have fun, I’ll see you for dinner on Tuesday right?”

 

“I’ll take you home, okay?,” he said.

 

“But Di-“

 

“I know he offered, but I’m telling you, I’ll take you home,” he repeated.

 

“Are you broken?,” she asked, wondering why he kept repeating himself.

 

Jon steered her away from his friends, who waved and blew kisses to her.

 

“Sansa, you’ve had a lot to drink,” he pointed out.

 

“So have you,” she argued, “So has everyone.”

 

“I know, there’s nothing wrong with it, but I don’t want Dickon taking you home right now, okay?,” he explained.

 

“But he’s a good guy,” she argued, “He’s… he’s a gentleman.”

 

“Maybe so,” Jon said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

 

It was at that moment that Dickon appeared with her coat and a smile and said, “All set, Sansa?”

 

“I’ve got her, man,” Jon told him, like she was a bill he was offering to pay.

 

“Oh it’s no troub-,” Dickon started.

 

“I’m sure it isn’t,” Jon nodded, “But nevertheless, I’ll see her home, alright? Sansa, say goodnight.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to say!,” she argued.

 

“Look Jon, I know that you’re friends and all but I really don’t think its your place to -“

 

“Oh and _you_ know all about staying in your proper place, huh?,” Jon asked him.

 

Dickon looked like he wanted to hit him, and given the circumstance, she couldn’t really blame him. She wanted to say something, but her tongue had gotten tied and she wasn’t really sure how to.

 

Dickon let out a harsh chuckle and then turned to her. He grabbed her by the face and kissed her. It wasn’t quite as nice as the first time, and it felt like he was just trying to prove a point.

 

Even still, when he pulled away he said sweetly, “Sleep tight, beautiful. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

 

Jon practically wrenched her jacket out of Dickon’s hands but his hands were gentle as he started moving her towards the door. He stopped her as they got to it and he draped the coat over her shoulders, untucking her hair and there was nothing really to do except put her arms through the sleeves. She hated a scene more than almost anything.

 

They walked outside in the cool autumn air and headed down the street towards her apartment. It was a quick walk, as the bar was closer to her building than the restaurant was.

 

She waved hello to her night doorman and got into the elevator. Jon followed.

 

“I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself up eight flights,” she pointed out as she hit the button for her floor.

 

“It’s no trouble,” he said.

 

She wasn’t sure if he was playing dumb or if he was actually dumb, but she didn’t really care at the moment. It suddenly felt as though tonight had been very long and she just wanted to wash her face and put on her pajamas.

 

They got out of the elevator and she grabbed her keys out of her bag as they got to her door.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said as she went to put them in the lock.

 

She paused but didn’t turn around.

 

“I don’t believe you,” she admitted.

 

The cool air had sobered her a bit and she found herself ashamed that she hadn’t stuck up for Dickon. She’d have to call and apologise in the morning.

 

“No, no I am,” he argued, turning her around gently.

 

She leaned her back against the door and looked at him. In her heels they were almost the same height and when she looked into his charcoal eyes they really did look remorseful. But maybe she was still drunk and imagining things.

 

“I’ve got… my own stuff about Dickon,” Jon said, “There’s stuff you don’t know-“

 

“I know,” she cut in. He raised his eyebrows and she went on, “He told me, at dinner. About his father, and the company, and Sam.”

 

“And what do you think about a man who would do something like that?,” he asked her snidely.

 

That made her hackles rise, and everything she’d been keeping in, all the anger she’d felt towards him for the past couple years on Robb and Arya’s behalf, bubbled to the surface.

 

“I think that you can betray a person and still love them,” she said, holding his gaze.

 

“Sansa,” he started and then shook his head and walked a few steps away from her.

 

“He feels guilty, Jon,” she told him, “He made a mistake. He hurt someone that he loves, but he’s trying to make up for it now… just like you are.”

 

He turned around and looked at her, “Just like I am?”

 

“That’s what you’re doing with me,” she explained, though she shouldn’t have to. He was the one doing it after all. “That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re looking out for me. You feel bad about not being there for Robb.”

 

“I do,” he nodded. He crossed to her though and took her cheeks in his hands. They felt warm and comforting even though his gaze was practically manic, “But if you think that’s why I’m here right now, then you’re an even bigger fool than I am.”

 

With that he pressed a kiss to her forehead and in the next moment he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh sorry this was a long one. Hope you're all still with me?


	6. Liaisons Dangereuses

They settled into a bit of a routine. Given both of their schedules, they decided that it would be easiest if they chose a specific day for their weekly dinners.

 

So it was, that every Tuesday night he’d leave work at 7 o’clock and head towards whatever restaurant they’d chosen. Sansa had gotten accustomed to Molestown quickly in the last month and a half, and she often suggested a restaurant now, saying _Oooh its been so long since I’ve had Braavosi chicken, can we try Temple + Dock?_

 

He always said yes, of course, because he didn’t care where they went. That wasn’t the point. Plus Sansa had wonderful taste, so he always had a good meal, particularly when he let her choose for him.

 

So it had been tonight, when he’d been about to order the salmon, had actually uttered it to the waiter only for Sansa to cut in and say, “ _I think you’d like the pork chop better_.”

 

He had shrugged at the waiter and thirty minutes later he had professed his undying devotion to Sansa and the pork chop and the passing maitre’d.

 

“So Robb and Ella are coming in next weekend,” Sansa informed him as they grabbed their coats.

 

“I know, they want to do dinner with us on the Friday, are you free?,” he asked her.

 

“Yep, I’ve already made a reservation at that Meerenese place we went to last week, do you think you can make it by 8? I know Fridays are tough,” she said sympathetically.

 

He nodded, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

He was unreasonably excited for Robb’s visit. He hadn’t seen him in over two years, and though they were talking pretty consistently now, he missed him more than he ever had. His time with Sansa was always bittersweet. She was his favorite part of every week, but there was always a twinge when she crossed her eyes at him, like Robb would, or she’d scrunch up her nose like Arya.

 

He saw her more than once a week usually, as his friends had all fallen in love with her. He’d shown up with Sam to the bar last weekend to find her already there with Gilly, Dickon and Tormund.

 

He and Dickon had long since buried the hatchet, both for Sansa’s sake and for Sam’s.

 

_“We need to talk,” Sansa said._

 

_It was the first night they’d seen each other since the bar and she skipped the pleasantries, which he respected._

 

_“I know,” he nodded as they sat down._

 

 _“What happened on Saturday can’t happen again,” Sansa said, “I want us to be friends, Jon. I… really love spending time with you and you mean a lot to me, but I am not a child and I will not be_ told _who is taking me home at the end of the night. Are we clear?”_

 

_No, he wanted to say. No we’re not clear. You’re not a child, but you are an innocent and I want to keep you that way. You’re too good for him by a mile and I’m going to make damn sure you know it._

 

_“We’re clear.”_

 

He had kept it together well enough, there’d only been one other incident. They’d all been at the pub and they’d been playing pool and Dickon had grabbed Sansa’s ass. It hadn’t gone over well.

 

She hooked her arm through his and laid her cheek on his shoulder. This was a part of Sansa he hadn’t known before, how affectionate she was. He liked it, leaning his cheek against her soft hair.

 

“I can’t believe they are coming,” Sansa exulted, “Together. They are together, _finally_.”

 

He’d heard about Robb and Ella the morning after it happened. He’d still been nursing a hangover, but it hadn’t quelled his excitement for his friend.

 

_“So you went after her, huh?,” he asked._

 

 _“Yeah, she was so pissed at me. Gods this girl is pretty when she’s angry. I thought she was going to tear my head off and I was_ into _it,” Robb said and Jon chuckled._

 

_“How did you make her come around?,” Jon wondered, thinking about a very different girl who was pretty when she was angry. And sad. And happy. And basically any other time she was existing._

 

_“I told her that I knew everything there was to know about her and that I love her and that I have for a very long time,” Robb sighed._

 

_“That’ll do it,” Jon nodded._

 

“I know, it’s almost sickening talking to Robb now, he’s so happy,” Jon agreed.

 

“Ella too!,” Sansa giggled, “She’s always had the gift of happiness but now it’s… she’s _transcendent_.”

 

“Transcendent,” Jon repeated, delighting in the way Sansa giggled when he did. “She’s quite a girl, huh? She’d have to be, to be worthy of the two of you.”

 

Sansa looked up at him with her sea eyes and smiled, “You’re a softy, Jon Snow, anyone ever tell you that?”

 

_No one, ever, in the history of the world._

 

“None quite so pretty,” he teased, swiping her nose.

 

He did that sometimes. He used to do it with Arya. It was good, to associate her with Arya. She scrunched it at him, the way Arya would, and suddenly she was safe again.

 

“So do you think you’ll introduce them to Val?,” she wondered.

 

“Val? No? Why would I do that?,” he wondered back.

 

“Because she’s your girlfriend,” Sansa explained.

 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he told her.

 

“What do you call a girl that you sleep with three times a week?,” Sansa asked.

 

“Her name, most of the time,” he teased.

 

She chuckled and shook her head, “You are such an ass. Can I say something that I’m not suppose to say?”

 

“You call me an ass and _now_ you ask my permission?,” he asked her. She fixed him with a look and he nodded, “Go on then.”

 

She stopped walking and turned to look at him. She worried her bottom lip and he wanted to press his thumb there to stop her.

 

“Sansa, you can say anything to me,” he reminded her.

 

She sighed and nodded, “You can do better. Than her. I know you say she isn’t your girlfriend and that’s well and good but you can do _better_.”

 

“Sansa…,” he started, though he wasn’t really sure what he was going to say.

 

“I mean it,” she shook her head, “I know I’m not supposed to say things like that because if you said it about Dickon I’d be pissed-“

 

“Well -“

 

“Jon we’ve been over this,” she sighed. He nodded, because they had been over it. “So call me a hypocrite if you want, but you’re too good for her,” he smiled and shook his head, “You are, you really are. You deserve someone who you’d _want_ to introduce to your best friend.”

 

“Sansa I told you, I’m not cut out for that sort of thing,” he said, looking away from her. He couldn’t meet her earnest blue gaze.

 

She grabbed his arm and it felt like it was on fire.

 

“And I told you that you are,” Sansa argued. “I get it, she’s hot, she’s the most beautiful girl in the world but -“

 

“She’s not the most beautiful girl in the world,” Jon couldn’t stop himself from saying. She started at that and he sighed, removing his arm from her grasp. “Look Sansa you asked me to leave you be with Dickon, and for the most part I’ve done that. Now I’m asking you to leave me be with Val. She doesn’t expect anything from me, she doesn’t _need_ anything from me.”

 

“Sometimes when people expect more from us, we find that we’re capable of more,” Sansa said as if she was reciting from a book.

 

“Who is that? Who said that?,” he wondered, knowing he’d heard it before.

 

“My father,” she lamented.

 

Ned Stark, the patriarch of the Stark family, the man who’d raised Robb in his image, the man who’d done more to shape his world view than any other. The man who would want him to do anything to keep his daughter safe and happy.

 

He sighed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and pulled her under his arm.

 

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he sighed.

 

They continued walking towards her apartment building in silence. It was comfortable silence though, the way theirs always were. She’d told him once, after having a bit too much to drink, that when they were together, all the outside noise fell away. That being with him was like being under water. He agreed with that.

 

But sometimes, he was sure that he’d drown.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said as they neared her apartment building, “I shouldn’t have said anything about Val. Can you forgive me?”

 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he assured her.

 

“Forgive me anyway,” she demanded.

 

“Alright,” he nodded, “I forgive you. Get some sleep, little one. See you ‘round the pub this weekend?”

 

“I’ll be the one destroying Tormund in darts.”

 

***

 

“Robb, is Ella with you?,” Sansa called into the speaker phone.

 

“Yeah Dovey, she’s right here, hold on. _Sweetheart, Sansa’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you…,_ ” Robb called.

 

Sansa grinned like an idiot hearing her big brother use the term _sweetheart_.

 

“I’m here, I’m here!,” Ella’s melodic voice called into the phone, “Hi Dovey. _Handsome, Rickon just texted, he’s done with practice_.”

 

“ _Alright I’ve got my work cell if you guys need anything, I’ll be back soon._ Bye Dovey! We’ll call you on Sunday, love you!,” Robb shouted.

 

“Love you too!,” she called back, then said softer, “Is he gone?”

 

“He’s gone!,” Ella said and she could tell she’d taken her off speaker phone, “What’s up?”

 

“Okay I’m going out with Dickon tonight and I’m kind of freaking out,” Sansa sighed.

 

Her bedroom floor was currently covered in clothes and she was standing in her fluffy robe, her make up only half done and he was going to be here in twenty minutes.

 

“Okay,” Ella said calmly, “Is tonight… _special_ for any reason?”

 

“How do you always know?,” Sansa accused, “It’s borderline creepy.”

 

Ella giggled on the other end, “Because Dovey, you’ve been dating this man for a month and a half and _all of a sudden_ you’re freaking out? You’re the most measured person I know. So tonight’s the night, huh?”

 

“I just feel like it’s time,” Sansa sighed.

 

“That’s not the most romantic notion I’ve ever heard…,” Ella pointed out softly.

 

“I like him, I do…,” Sansa told her, “I don’t know why I’m freaking out. Did you freak out your first time with…”

 

This was the only time it was weird that her best friend was dating her brother. Ella had always been pretty private about her sex life anyway, Sansa had been the only one she’d told when she’d lost her virginity, but even still.

 

“I was a bit nervous,” Ella told her, “But…”

 

“But?,” Sansa prompted.

 

“I don’t want this to be weird for you,” Ella said.

 

“No I… I mean it is a bit weird, but please, I’m really struggling here,” Sansa pleaded.

 

“Okay, it’s okay,” Ella assured her, “The thing about Robb, about being with him, for me, is that… he consumes me entirely. Until there is no reason to be afraid, no reason to be self-conscious, because it’s just us. It’s just him and me. He drowns everything else out.”

 

“Like being under water?,” Sansa gulped.

 

“Exactly!,” Ella agreed, “It’s just like that. That sort of calm you feel, the weightlessness.”

 

 _That’s what I was afraid of_.

 

“But Dovey,” Ella went on, “Not all relationships are like that, and not all loves have to be great ones. Sometimes its enough to like the person and enjoy their company and be attracted to them. Sometimes it’s enough to be happy now. You deserve to happy more than anyone, does he make you happy?”

 

She thought about Dickon. His kind smile and his gentle hands. The way he had researched her program so that he’d know what she was talking about and the way he’d wanted her to meet his family right away. She thought about Saturday morning at the farmer’s market and him leaving work early to meet her for drinks.

 

“I think so,” she said.

 

Ella was silent for a long while and though Sansa knew she should be finishing getting ready, she didn’t have the courage to move.

 

“Just see how you feel, Dovey. There’s no reason that it has to be tonight. You’re worth waiting for, and if he doesn’t know that by now then he doesn’t deserve the chance to even _try_ to make you happy, okay? Wanting to do it is a good enough reason, but feeling like you should isn’t. Should doesn’t come into it at all, alright?”

 

Sansa nodded, though Ella couldn’t see her.

 

“Okay,” Sansa agreed.

 

“But just in case, wear that black lace lingerie set and the little black dress with that onyx, ruby and pearl collar and the strappy pumps,” Ella suggested.

 

Sansa giggled to herself, “What would I do without you? I was about to answer the door half naked.”

 

“Another strategy that has proved very successful in the past…,” Ella teased.

 

“Ew, goodbye! I love you,” Sansa grinned.

 

“Love you too, Dovey. Text me,” Ella ordered and clicked off.

 

Sansa finished getting ready hurriedly and then just in case things did go that way, she shoved all of her discarded clothes into her closet and closed it. She smoothed her bedspread and spritzed herself with perfume.

 

She heard her doorbell ring and she walked through her apartment to answer it. She opened the door and a pair of blue eyes was staring at her.

 

“Oh Sansa, you look _lovely_ ,” he said.

 

But it wasn’t Dickon Tarly.

 

“Ramsay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh sorry!


	7. The Things They Carried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looove the reactions from the last chapter!

Jon felt his blood curdling as he watched the elevator tick up the floors at a tortuous pace. 

 

_"Please, you promised."_

 

Finally the elevator pinged and the doors opened and he ran down the hall to her apartment. He knocked on the door but there was no answer. His blood ran cold.

 

"Sansa! It's me, it's Jon," he called, knocking on the door harder. 

 

He was about to break the door down when he heard the locks being undone. The door opened slightly and a knife was aimed at him and a pair of nearly manic blue eyes looking at him. 

 

He raised his hands in front of himself, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. 

 

"Sansa, sweet girl it's me, it's Jon," he told her.

 

The knife shook in her grasp and then it clanged to the ground. Her face crumbled along with it and then she was in his arms. 

 

He wrapped her in as tightly as he could, bringing her into the safety of her apartment and kicking the door shut. 

 

"Are you hurt?," he asked her, "Do we need to go to the hospital?"

 

She shook her head against him, wrapping her arms more tightly around his back. 

 

"Was it Dickon? Did he do something to you?," he asked, knowing she was meant to have a date with him tonight.

 

She shook her head again and he stopped trying to ask questions. He just held her, stroking her soft hair and her shaking back. He pressed his lips to her temple and another sob rocked her body.

 

"It's okay, it's okay," he assured her, "You're okay," he assured himself.

 

It wasn't until much later, after she had showered and changed into a sweatshirt of Robb's and a pair of pajama pants and he'd made them tea, though he didn't really like the taste of it, and they'd settled on the couch that he found out what had happened.

 

"When I was down south for school, I was going out a lot,” Sansa began without prompting, knowing that he was dying of curiosity, “A bunch of my friends from boarding school were still down there, or at least friends of friends, so there was always something to do. There was this guy, Ramsay Bolton. I'm not even sure how he knew people, but he always seemed to be around. And I guess he sort of..."

 

"He what?," he asked as calmly as he was able.

 

"He... he got kind of... _obsessed_ with me,” Sansa shrugged, as though the possibility of a man growing obsessed with her was unbelievable. “He started showing up places whenever I posted my location on social media, and sometimes at my dorm. And then one night..."

 

"What happened," he asked, his voice so low it sounded like it was coming to the bottom of the grave.

 

"Nothing... he just... he broke into my dorm room,” she told him and grabbed his arm to steady him. _Just. He just broke into her fucking dorm room._ She went on, “I was lucky I was with my roommate and some guys on our floor scared him off... nothing happened..."

 

"Did you ever report him?,” he asked.

 

“No,” she shook her head. He opened his mouth to tell her that she should have but she cut him off, explaining, “I was going to. But the next day I got the call about my parents and I moved home.”

 

It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he was sitting in front of one of the strongest people he’d ever met. That her ability to simply get out of bed in the morning earned her respect. On top of that though she was kind and fun and she was dedicating her life to helping others, and she was still so young.

 

"Does Robb know about this?,” he wondered.

 

It seemed odd that Robb wouldn’t have told him, wouldn’t have warned him of this. He’d never questioned why he’d asked him to look out for her, he didn’t need a reason like this, but he would think that if he knew, he wouldn’t have kept it from him.

 

He got his answer when she shook her head, "There was too much going on. I didn't even think about it, and by the time I did, I was at home, safe within the walls of Winterfell… but then I moved here."

 

"And he found you?,” he prompted, knowing that she had not just suffered an unpleasant memory.

 

She nodded, "He showed up at my door tonight. He didn't get in... I slammed the door in his face and locked everything. But he..."

 

"He what?,” he urged, wondering if there was something in her apartment she wouldn’t mind him breaking.

 

"He just said some things, that's all,” she shook her head, as though she was a stupid girl.

 

As though she was foolish to have been afraid when a _psycho_ from her past showed up at her home.

 

"What kind of things?,” he prompted.

 

"Just that he'd been waiting a long time to see me again, and that he hoped we would pick up where we left, that I wouldn't tease him like I did last time…,” she closed her eyes and a single tear fell down her cheek. “But I didn’t tease him. I _didn't_."

 

She said that as though she’d repeated it to herself many times before. As though she’d had to remind herself of it when she lay awake at night. As though he’d almost convinced her that she was wrong.

 

"Of course you didn't, none of this is your fault…,” he promised her. His brow furrowed in anger, “Where was Dickon during all this? Weren't you supposed to have a date?"

 

As much as he wasn't Dickon's biggest fan, he was a big guy, he might have been able to intimidate him. He might have been able to reassure her.

 

"He was running late,” Sansa evaded, and then looked over at him, “And then I asked him not to come.”

 

She didn't have to say anything else. She’d told Dickon to stay away and she’d asked him to come. He wasn't going to press for anything more than that. 

 

There had to be something wrong with him, that even as he was out of his mind with worry, and anger, that he couldn't deny that he was also relieved, happy even, that when she was afraid it was to him she turned.

 

"Okay," he said, determined to be worthy of the trust she placed in him. He tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear, and said, "Tomorrow, you and I are going to go down to the police station to give a statement, alright? And we'll find a picture of him and show it to all the doormen, so they know not to let him in, and we'll give them my number so that they can call me if he shows up." She nodded and leaned her cheek against his hand. Her lower lip was trembling and he knew in that moment that he would kill the bastard if he ever got his hands on him. "He is never going to touch you, Sansa. I'll protect you, I promise."

 

"This isn't what you signed up for,” she sighed.

 

"This is _exactly_ what I signed up for,” he promised, but it wasn’t enough. She still didn’t understand. “Even if it weren't though, it wouldn't change anything."

 

“Jon?,” she asked.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Will you stay here tonight?”

 

***

 

With great goading and a little pleading she’d gotten Jon to accept the pair of sweatpants she’d offered him. He didn’t believe they were Robb’s, which they were, and it even took a little bit of teasing about how he’d wake up stuck forever in his skinny jeans if he didn’t.

 

He was in them and just a black t shirt now. It was v neck, showing off just a bit of chest hair, and it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his arms as they loaded the couch up with extra pillows.

 

Her heart rate had finally returned to normal and she’d even managed to joke around with him a bit as they got ready for bed, though he didn’t try to force her to.

 

“Do you need a glass of water or anything?,” she asked him as she grabbed a blanket from her linen closet.

 

“If I do, I’ll grab one,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with even this level of coddling. As though he wasn’t the one who’d rushed over here to take care of her. “Go get some sleep, Sansa.”

 

She nodded and waved awkwardly, gesturing to the tv and the lights. He nodded at her too, his eyes crinkling at her in that way of his and she sighed and walked into her bedroom.

 

She got into bed and turned off the lights, willing sleep to come. She knew it wouldn’t immediately, and she turned on her dream playlist which was full of soft instrumental songs. She willed herself to calm down, but it seemed as though her heart rate had risen again.

 

She closed her eyes and all she saw was soulless blue ones staring back at her.

 

She turned on the light and rolled on her side.

 

_You’re unharmed. He didn’t do anything._

 

She tried to tell herself that, that it was okay, that it didn’t matter. That she was silly for feeling this was. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t believe that.

 

She closed her eyes again and all she heard was _You’re not going to tease me this time are you, Sansa? You’re not going to forget who you belong to._

 

She turned up the music louder but it did nothing to quiet the cruel voice in her head.

 

She considered texting Ella, but she knew her friend would be waiting to hear about her date with Dickon, and the idea of the terror that would be in her voice when she called to hear more about what happened made Sansa want to cry all over again.

 

She wasn’t ready for Robb to know either, knowing that he’d hesitate to wait until next weekend to come here, knowing that he’d search every hotel room in Molestown looking for Ramsay.

 

She didn’t want to look at her phone either, for fear of what Dickon had said. She’d waited only to get his first reply, to know that he wasn’t coming, before she’d thrown her phone across the room.

 

There was only one person in her life who knew what had happened tonight, and he was sleeping in the very next room.

 

She got out of bed and tiptoed to the door, then thought better of it halfway there and got back into bed. She lay on her side and tried to close her eyes and the sight of Ramsay’s wicked smile greeted her.

 

She got out of bed again and before she could lose her nerve, she tiptoed into the living room.

 

“Jon?,” she called softly, “Are you sleeping?”

 

“No,” he said quietly back.

 

She walked purposefully over to him and asked, with more courage than she knew she had, “Will you sleep with me? In my bed… I mean…”

 

“You can’t sleep?,” he asked her.

 

“I… keep seeing him. And hearing him. I get it if you can’t sleep with people, some people can’t…,” she reasoned.

 

“No, no, I um… sure,” he said and got up, grabbing the pillows.

 

She lead him into her room and crawled in on one side. He plopped the pillows on the other and climbed in.

 

Sansa turned off the light and they both settled in. She turned off her playlist, because she wasn’t sure if Jon could sleep with music on, and she didn’t need it now, to block out the other noise.

 

She turned on her side, away from him, and closed her eyes once again. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that, maybe five, maybe ten, maybe twenty minutes. Either way, sleep wouldn’t come.

 

“Jon?,” she asked, because she could tell he wasn’t sleeping either.

 

“Yeah?,” he asked back.

 

She bit her lip and wondered, “Can I ask just one more favor?”

 

She felt his warm hand on her arm as he said, in that soft voice he used with her sometimes, “Come here.”

 

She rolled over and towards him, into the safety of his arms. They settled in with each other, the slope of her nose pressed to his neck, his arms around her back and hers across his chest.

 

He was like Novocain and she felt a sweet numbness spreading through her veins.

 

“Are you uncomfortable?,” she asked sleepily.

 

“No, Dovey,” he whispered, making her smile at hearing the nickname that everyone back home used upon his lips.

 

He pulled her tighter against him and the scruff of his beard was against her cheek as he rested his head against her. It was a comforting weight and she burrowed into him deeper, until there was no reason to be afraid, no reason to be self-conscious. Until it was just him and her.

 

*

 

She woke when the light peered in her window and she was still wrapped up in Jon. She found though that they’d shifted in the night.

 

One of his hands was in her hair, his lips against her forehead. Her leg was hitched over his, her hand resting against his chest. His other hand was holding her firmly against him hovering in the area between her lower back and her butt.

 

She could tell from the steadiness of his breath that he hadn’t woken up yet, and she wasn’t ready to either, not if it meant removing herself from his grasp. Instead she burrowed against him deeper, her hand moving up to the spot of chest hair that was poking out of his shirt and her leg wandering further over him.

 

He groaned against her and whispered something that sounded like her name. She fell asleep again and when she dreamed that she was drowning she found herself unafraid.


	8. The Buccaneers

“I’m not angry,” Robb said angrily.

 

“Yes you are,” Sansa sighed.

 

Ella grimaced at him, clearly torn between which Stark sibling to side with.

 

This, he was sure, was not the way Sansa had intended the evening to go. She had been looking forward to it all week, and had practically been vibrating with excitement when he dropped her off at school that morning.

 

Somehow though, it had just come out.

 

“Robb, why don’t you take a little walk?,” Ella offered softly, stroking his arm, “The bar we are going to is just down the street, why don’t we pay the bill and meet you there?”

 

Robb looked at her like he was going to protest, but she stroked her knuckle down his cheek and he nodded. He sighed, but ever the gentleman, pulled out his credit card and put it down on the table. Jon would have paid without a second thought, but it was so Robb that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.

 

“I’ll uh, meet you guys there,” he said gruffly, grabbing his coat and walking out.

 

He left the three of them in silence and the waiter, well trained in his profession, came and grabbed Robb’s card before Jon could take his out to at least split it.

 

“I should go talk to him,” Sansa said.

 

“Why don’t you give him a minute, Dovey?,” Ella asked gently, “It’s… a lot to take in.”

 

Sansa glanced at him and he nodded, though he wasn’t really sure what the right thing or wrong thing was.

 

This really _wasn’t_ the way the evening was supposed to go.

 

Sansa wasn’t the only one looking forward to it, he had been ever since Robb had texted him telling him that he was coming and that he was bringing Ella and that for dinner on Friday he wanted it to be just the four of them.

 

_Jon: I could always see you Saturday if you want it to just be family on Friday._

 

_Robb: Come on, man, you have to come! I want to introduce you to Ella, she’s really important to me._

 

_Robb: Besides you are family, you know that._

 

Admittedly, he’d had anxiousness mixed in with his excitement ever since he woke up in Sansa’s bed, completely tangled up in her. It had gotten worse on Sunday, when they woke up in a similar position, and Monday, and every day since.

 

“Are you angry?,” Sansa asked her.

 

“No!,” Ella exclaimed, shaking her head as though the possibility of being angry with Sansa was unfathomable. She took her hand in both of hers, “ _Of course not_. I just… wish you hadn’t kept it from us.”

 

“We didn’t really -,” Jon started but stopped as Ella’s green eyes fell to him.

 

He realised in that moment that while Ella couldn’t fathom being angry with Sansa, that did not necessarily extend to him. He felt himself shrinking under that gaze even though it wasn’t cruel. It was simply exacting - like she could see into your very soul.

 

“You spoke with Robb yesterday, Jon,” Ella noted, “Did you mention it then?”

 

“No,” he shook his head.

 

Ella nodded slowly and he could tell that she took no joy in his discomfort. She looked as though she had wished dearly that he wouldn’t fail Robb again and found it disappointing that he had.

 

“Wait, Ella, that isn’t fair. Jon wanted to tell Robb as soon as it happened but I… _insisted_ that it would be better to do in person,” Sansa argued.

 

_“It doesn’t feel right,” Jon said, “Keeping it from him.”_

 

_“We’re not, we’re just… delaying a little while. I just want to get my head wrapped around it a bit before he gets involved,” Sansa reasoned, “Because we both know he will have opinions.”_

 

_“Of course he will,” Jon agreed, his stomach knotting, “You’re his sister. Still though…”_

 

_She stepped forward and took his hand, looking at him with those blue eyes of hers. He was helpless against those eyes and something about the feel of her hand holding his anchored him in a way that nothing else ever had._

 

_“Please Jon,” she nearly whispered, “Let’s just keep it between us a little while longer.”_

 

_“Okay,” he agreed and she fell into his arms. He kissed her temple and nodded, “We’ll wait.”_

 

“Let’s go talk to Robb,” Ella said standing up. Sansa stayed in her seat and Ella offered her hand, “Come on Dovey, it’ll all be alright, I promise.”

 

Sansa took her hand and stood up, “I’m sorry. I kept it from you too.”

 

“There are no sorries between us, not now, not ever,” Ella told her.

 

Grace. It was the kind of thing you knew existed but couldn’t understand until you saw it right before your eyes. Ella Baratheon was full of it.

 

She was indescribably beautiful, like Robb and Sansa had both said, but it almost didn’t matter. She was the kind of person who wore their soul on the outside.

 

They all put their jackets on and walked through the restaurant and outside. To his surprise, he saw Robb there finishing up a call.

 

“Baby, I thought you were going to take a walk?,” Ella asked, not letting go of Sansa’s hand.

 

“I didn’t get very far, I had to make a call,” Robb sighed.

 

“Robby,” Sansa whispered.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure that Robb had heard, but nevertheless he crossed to his little sister so quickly that if it were any other man Jon would have stepped in front of her. It wasn’t any other man though, it was Robb, who took Sansa into his arms, holding her so tightly he might crush her but she burrowed into him deeper still.

 

“I’m sorry, Robb,” Sansa said, “I should have told you when it all started. I knew, I knew right away and I didn’t because I was afraid of what it would mean.”

 

Robb’s gaze flicked to his and there was fire burning in his blue eyes.

 

“It’ll all be alright, Dovey,” he promised, just like Ella had, though something in Robb’s eyes told him it wouldn’t be. “We’re going to keep you safe. Jon and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you, and if Ramsay Bolton thinks to come near you again he will regret it.”

 

Jon held his gaze, difficult though it was, and nodded. He had already made the promise a thousand times, every morning they’d woken up together he repeated the same thing.

 

He certainly hadn’t meant to sleep in her bed every night for the past week, but somehow it had just kind of happened, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry about it. Not when she clung to him the way he clung to her at night, not when they had a little routine each morning that started with him waking up with her, safe in his arms.

 

It was something else they were keeping from Robb.

 

It was his third betrayal of his best friend, and one that he knew Robb might consider to be the worst, because every morning Jon woke up in Sansa Stark’s bed he fell a little bit more in love with her.

 

***

 

She was forgiven by the time they got to the pub. Robb never was good at holding a grudge with her and she knew that his reaction was really just him being scared and somehow feeling like _he_ had let _her_ down, which was ridiculous.

 

They had a round together and then Jon and Robb started playing darts and she and Ella went and grabbed a booth to sit at because all of the bar seats were taken.

 

It was so good to catch up with her best friend. She’d missed Robb, of course, and all of her other siblings madly but she and Ella practically shared limbs before she came up here and she finally felt whole again.

 

“So tell me more about Dickon,” Ella urged, “Did you… _ever_ …um….”

 

“No we never _fucked_ ,” Sansa giggled. She turned a bit serious when she said, “The night we were going to was the night that Ramsay showed up…”

 

Ella’s face fell and she nodded, “I’m glad he was there though.”

 

“Well…,” Sansa evaded, wondering how to explain. “He um… was running late actually…”

 

“Oh Dovey, you must have been so frightened,” Ella said sympathetically, and it made Sansa want to cry.

 

“I was… and I texted him…,” Sansa went on.

 

“Well that -“

 

“To tell him not to come.”

 

“Oh,” Ella said slowly as though testing out the sound.

 

Sansa felt her cheeks heating up as Ella’s eyes searched hers, like she was looking deep down to her soul.

 

“Yeah,” Sansa nodded, trying for blasé, “I just, we haven’t been dating _that_ long and I didn’t want to burden him.”

 

“You could never be a burden, Dovey, you know that,” Ella dismissed. She shrugged and sighed, “But I get it, wanting to be alone.”

 

“Well that’s the thing…,” Sansa started.

 

“You called Jon,” Ella guessed. Sansa stared at her and nodded and Ella’s face crumbled sympathetically, “Of course you did! He’s home, he’s made a promise to Robb to protect you. Plus he’s _scary_.”

 

Sansa giggled, “Jon is _not_ scary.”

 

Ella smiled, “Well maybe not after watching him try and eat a hot pepper and nearly _crying_ about it, but to a random guy off the street…yeah… he’s pretty scary. By the way, you should have started out your story to Robb with _Don’t worry I called Jon immediately_ , that might have avoided some of the heavy breathing.”

 

Sansa smiled at the truth of that. Robb trusted Jon so implicitly, just like she did. He really did breathe easier when he was around, and she turned at the sound of Robb’s cackle at whatever Jon was telling him. _He’s whole too_ , she realised.

 

She had known that Robb missed Jon, it was as clear as day. Theon was a great friend but Jon was Jon. Even still she wasn’t entirely prepared for the degree to which Jon and Robb had missed one another. Looking at them now, they both seemed freer, younger. They had seemed to pick up right where they left off, as though everything from the past two years hadn’t happened. Or maybe it was just like her and Ella, maybe it was the way you were with old friends, the ones who felt like family - maybe there wasn’t any explanation needed because nothing was going to change the facts - that they loved one another and would raze cities to the ground for the other, maybe that was enough. Maybe sorries never came into it at all.

 

Jon nearly spit out some of his whiskey when he started laughing at Robb when he hit the wall instead of the dart board and it brought a smile to her face to see him so happy. He had been such a rock for her all week, and even though he would slowly relax each night, she knew how tense he was from work and now from Ramsay.

 

She turned back to Ella to find that her friend had been looking at her while she was looking at the boys.

 

Sansa blushed, “Anyway you’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner… so you can make _all_ your decisions about Dickon yourself.”

 

Ella looked at her like she was going to ask her something but she merely took a sip of her martini.

 

“Okay,” she said finally, “But tell me about him anyway! I want to be prepared so that he likes me!”

 

Sansa giggled, “If he doesn’t like you he’s _gone_ baby. I could never datesomeone stupid…”

 

Ella giggled back and nodded.

 

They were nearing the end of their drinks when the mood in the bar changed slightly. There was something buzzing in the air and Ella furrowed her brow and looked around. Sansa followed her gaze to a pair of beautiful women who were making their way through.

 

“Wildling invasion,” Sansa said, quoting Tormund.

 

The women in question were Val and a friend of hers. Val was in one of her painted on dresses, this one was in red and had a deep V neckline. Her friend was a leggy brunette, equally sexy and even more scantily dressed.

 

Ella surveyed them, her light green eyes appraising them with a small smile on her face. She took a sip of her martini and didn’t blanch when they headed straight for Robb and Jon.

 

Val didn’t waste anytime, taking Jon by the back of his head and kissing him. Sansa tasted bile in her throat, she had no idea what Jon saw in her.

 

 _Okay, well I can think of two things_.

 

Even still she had meant what she said last week. He could do so much better than Val. There were a lot of pretty, sexy girls in the world that didn’t carry themselves the way she did. That weren’t as brash or rude, who wouldn’t treat him like a piece of meat.

 

 _Not that he often seems to mind_.

 

She watched as Val’s friend introduced herself to Robb, planting a kiss on his cheek for good measure, her hand resting on his chest.

 

Ella took another sip of her martini and turned back to her, her eyes lighting up, “Ooh do you think you could take me to that flea market that you went to last week? I really want to find an antique trunk - I think it would look so cute at the foot of my bed.”

 

“S-sure,” Sansa nodded and then leaned in, placing her hand gently on Ella’s forearm, “El, sweetie, aren’t you jealous?”

 

“Of what?,” Ella asked her.

 

“Of the girl attempting to _mount_ Robb right now,” Sansa suggested, gesturing over to where Val’s friend was practically purring against her older brother.

 

In fact _she_ had half a mind to go pull that wench off of her. Robb may be her brother but Ella was her best friend and _no one_ messed with her best friend’s boyfriend.

 

Ella only giggled though and shook her head, “Not at all! Robb is probably _dying_ on the inside right now trying to find a way to extract himself from that…situation. She’s not his type.”

 

Sansa looked over at the girl, who had flowing dark hair and an ass you could bounce a coin off of.

 

“I hate to break it to you, sweetie, but I think she may be every man’s type,” Sansa said as gently as possible.

 

Ella looked over at Robb and her grin never waivered.

 

“Trust me, Dovey,” Ella offered coolly.

 

Sansa envied her that, her confidence. She felt like a troll next to Val, or a nun, particularly now in her black turtleneck sweater. She wasn’t entirely sure if Ella’s confidence came from the fact that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, which she was, or the fact that Robb was utterly devoted to her, which he was, but either way Ella’s eyes were alight with mischief when she turned back to her with a grin.

 

“Oh but should I give him a little thrill and pretend to be jealous?,” Ella asked conspiratorially.

 

“I wouldn’t mind a show,” Sansa agreed, taking a casual sip of her lemon drop martini and leaning back in her chair like she’d stay a while.

 

Ella giggled and clinked her glass against hers before downing the rest of her martini and placing her glass down on the table. Her best friend winked at her and fluffed her hair before easing off the bench.

 

If the women in question had turned heads because of all that they were showing, the law of opposites dictated that Ella was drawing attention because all that she wasn’t showing. She too was wearing a turtleneck, a fuzzy white one with jeans and a pair of brown ankle boots, her hair up in a high ponytail, and no make up on her angelic face. Even still, you could imagine her naked from the way men turned to stare at her as she walked by, but unlike Val and her friend, they didn’t crowd in, they gave her a wide berth as though such perfection had to be assessed from a distance.

 

She knew she could have followed her. Watched the show up close, but she had no right to.

 

Even still, watching Val run her hands all over Jon, like he was _hers_ , Sansa realised that while Ella wasn’t jealous, she just might be.

 

***

 

There were no words for being with Robb again. It was like Sansa always said about her and Ella, like they shared limbs. They had all the camaraderie of friends, all the banter of rivals, and all the comfort of brothers.

 

“So you didn’t get a look at him?,” Robb asked.

 

“No man, he was gone by the time I got there, both times. But she showed me his picture and I’ve been speaking with the police chief. We know each other from some stuff that happened a while back, and they are on the look out for him too. He’s not getting near her.”

 

Robb nodded, knocking back the rest of his whiskey.

 

“I just wish she was home,” Robb shook his head, “Where there’s always someone around. Someone sleeping in the same house as her.”

 

“Well uh, actually,” Jon started, figuring now was as good a time as any.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure that he would mention that when he slept over that it was in her bed, but he could at least tell him that he had been staying there, and that he would until Ramsay was caught. Or until she stopped wanting him to.

 

He didn’t get a chance though because he felt a chill and turned around just in time for Val to press her body up against his and kiss him. He kissed her back out of habit, and pulled away as soon as it was appropriate.

 

“Hey,” he said stupidly.

 

“Hi baby,” she purred at him.

 

He glanced at Robb, figuring that he should introduce them, but Robb had his own problems, as one of Val’s friends, Lexi, seemed intent on mounting him. The poor guy looked absolutely bewildered.

 

You would think Robb would be used to female adoration, girls loved him, but he wasn’t, never had been. It was no coincidence that it took him two years to tell Ella that he loved her.

 

He backed up from Lexi under the guise of ordering another drink, throwing Jon a curious look. Jon nodded, knowing that Robb wasn’t really asking if he wanted another drink but not being able to resist making him squirm a little bit. He’d extract them in a few minutes and they’d take the girls down the street to a nicer cocktail bar, but watching Robb’s panic attack was the most fun he’d had all night.

 

 _Until now_.

 

Because at the exact moment that Robb turned around with their drinks, Ella Baratheon showed up right in front of him, a small smile on her face.

 

“Hi,” she practically cooed at Robb, “You’re gorgeous.”

 

“Uh…thank you,” Robb choked out.

 

“Really, _really_ gorgeous,” she went on, closing the distance between them and pressing her body against him the way Lexi just had been. Robb was looking down at Ella like she was the maiden made flesh, like he was prepared to kneel before her and worship her as was her due. Jon also saw that his eyes flickered in understanding, he knew what game she was playing and he was going to let her have her fun because it could possibly lead to his own. This was made obvious when Ella demanded softly, “So you’re going to take me home tonight.”

 

Jon had to turn away so that he wouldn’t give up the game. He passed off a laugh as a cough, but it didn’t matter because no one was looking at him anyway.

 

“Um _excuse me, bitch_ , I was having a conversation,” Lexi said, which wasn’t exactly true.

 

Ella turned with that small smile on her face and said, “And now you’re not.”

 

“Who the hell do you think you are?,” Val asked, stepping forward.

 

Jon tensed, wondering if he should stop her.

 

Ella looked at her, nearly with sympathy in her features when she told her, “His girlfriend.”

 

Val chuckled harshly and turned to him, “Seriously what is up with you guys and the Disney princesses?”

 

“I think its because they have…,” Ella started, leaning her back against Robb’s chest. His arms immediately went around her and for a moment Jon’s heart clenched at the absolute ease they had with one another. Ella looked up at Robb though and said, as though she were Ariel, “What’s that word again, oh right, _taste,_ ” her eyes wandered over Val and Lexi’s dresses and she added, “Not everyone does.”

 

This time Jon did put his arm in front of Val but it was Lexi who was stepping forward. Robb was too quick for her though and picked up Ella, throwing her over his shoulder and making his way towards the exit.

 

“Sansa,” Robb called, “Grab her coat.”

 

Jon turned to find Sansa doubled over in laughter as Ella wiggled her fingers at Lexi and Val. The girl had more brass than half the guys in his unit.

 

“If you walk out of here with her,” Val warned him, having followed his gaze to Sansa, “That’s it.”

 

Jon looked back at Sansa, who was grabbing all of their coats from the hooks. She and Ella couldn’t be more different from Val and Lexi, and in truth, Val wasn’t entirely wrong, he wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find that either of them had a talking animal sidekick.

 

Sansa glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow, but there was a light pout to her lips. There was no way she had heard Val, but it was like she knew all the same.

 

He turned back to Val and said, “Then I guess that’s it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robb and Ella's visit will continue in the next chapter because I need more of my favourite foursome together.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think!


	9. The Awakening

“Please, I insist,” Dickon said.

 

“No, _I insist_ ,” Robb argued.

 

“Really, I -,” Dickon started as the the waiter came to pick up the bill.

 

Ella calmly handed the waiter her credit card and whispered theatrically, “ _Run, run for your life!_ ”

 

Robb glared at her and Dickon looked horrified. Sansa giggled and sighed dramatically.

 

They’d had a nice dinner. It wasn’t the restaurant she necessarily would have chosen, but Dickon had wanted to bring them to the best and she didn’t have the heart to dissuade him.

 

Ella had seemed to enjoy her sole mueniere but she knew Robb would insist on them grabbing a burger or something before they went back to their hotel. She’d tried to give him some of her duck but he’d waved her off.

 

She’d been pleased last night when he’d raved about the food. Meereenese was Ella’s favorite, which was the reason Sansa had picked it, but Robb had developed a liking for it as well and he’d enjoyed the informal atmosphere andthat he hadn’t had to wear a tie.

 

He was wearing one tonight, and though he looked born to do so, she could tell he’d much rather be in the blue sweater he’d been wearing last night. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of his girlfriend in her mauve dress, but he looked at her no differently than he had the night before when she was wearing one of her coziest sweaters.

 

She’d warned Ella when they were shopping today that she hadn’t told Dickon about Ramsay, so they’d both been on their best behaviour and not mentioned a thing. She knew Robb would have some opinions about that but she didn’t want to add any more weight to the evening. It felt heavy enough already.

 

“Thank you, Ella,” Sansa said with a grin.

 

“Yes, _thank you_ ,” Robb nearly growled at her.

 

“Thank you very much,” Dickon said politely, though she could tell he was uncomfortable with how that had went.

 

Ella waved them all off as she signed the bill.

 

“So there is a speakeasy down the street that has great cocktails,” Dickon suggested, “Ella I know you are a martini girl but they’ll take one look at you and make the cocktail of your dreams.”

 

He was really trying. He had been asking all about them on their date on Wednesday night and she’d told him as much as she could, all the while trying to assure him that he had nothing to worry about, even though she didn’t quite believe it herself.

 

Ella smiled at him kindly and opened her mouth to say something but Robb said, “Jon is back at the Crow’s Nest.”

 

“Oh, I bet that Sam is there too?,” Sansa offered hopefully to Dickon.

 

She wanted everyone to be comfortable, and she knew that Robb would be happiest with Jon and that Dickon would be happy with Sam and that she and Ella would be happy ignoring all of them.

 

“Oh, sure,” Dickon nodded.

 

She smiled at him and rubbed his forearm. He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, giving her a reassuring smile.

 

They all stood up and Dickon helped her into her coat while Robb helped Ella into hers. As they made their way towards the exit Ella came over and hooked her arm through Dickon’s.

 

“I haven’t had nearly enough time with you,” she told him sweetly, “I’d love to hear more about your thoughts on the recent merger between the Frey’s and the Manderly’s, I find I often try to persuade my grandfather to follow your father’s example…”

 

“Oh that was an interesting one,” Dickon nodded as he escorted her towards the door, the two of them discussing stock options and PR mishaps.

 

Sansa turned and waited for Robb to come join her.

 

“He’s trying,” she said softly.

 

Robb grinned and shucked her chin, “I know, Dovey. Can you blame me if I have high standards for you?”

 

She couldn’t, she had high standards for him too and the only girl she could imagine meeting them was the one he’d chosen.

 

“You’re just hungry,” she teased.

 

“That pork chop was _so_ small,” he complained and she giggled, hooking her arm through his and leaning her cheek against the comforting solidity of his arm.

 

“Don’t worry, Jon knows the best after hours fried chicken place in the city,” she assured him.

 

He sighed, “Thank the gods for Jon.”

 

“Thank the gods for Jon,” she repeated quietly.

 

He had slept over again the night before, telling Robb and Ella that her apartment was on his way home. It wasn’t a lie, but they both knew he wasn’t going to his apartment and they had stood side by side brushing their teeth and gotten into bed together still talking about the evening.

 

No matter how they fell asleep, they always woke up tangled in one another and this morning had been the worst. She’d woken up on top of him, his arms locked tightly around her, telling her how she’d gotten there.

 

He’d been hard, which she understood had nothing to do with her. That happened, in the mornings, especially when a warm body, _any_ warm body was pressed up against them. She told herself that, but it hadn’t stopped her body from reacting to it and she’d untangled herself quickly, hopping in the shower before she made a fool of herself.

 

“Is he doing a good job of looking after you?,” Robb asked into her hair as they followed Ella and Dickon to the pub.

 

“He is,” she allowed, “Though I do a pretty good job of looking after myself.”

 

Robb stopped walking and turned her so that she was facing him.

 

“I know you do, Dovey,” he told her, “You took care of yourself and three kids for the past couple of years, so none of my concern is about you not being able to handle yourself. Okay?,” he asked and she nodded. “I just feel better knowing that Jon is close by, especially with all the Ramsay stuff.”

 

She felt tears welling her eyes and she nodded, “I know, Robby. Me too.”

 

“Sansa? What’s wrong?,” he asked in concern.

 

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “Nothing I just… he really sneaks up on you, you know? I feel like I need him in a way I’m not comfortable with.”

 

Robb smiled at her sadly, “That’s alright, Dovey. It’s okay to lean on him, he’s got big strong shoulders,” _Oh I know, trust me_ , “And he’s devoted to you,” _Yeah, I know that too_.

 

She wanted to tell him that she was afraid that it was more than that. That she knew that the jealousy she felt when Val was around wasn’t just because his attention was focused elsewhere, that it had to do with the ease with which she touched him and the fact that she knew what his lips tasted like and she didn’t. She wanted to tell him that it was getting confusing, waking up in Jon’s arms every day but that she wasn’t sure she could sleep without him now.

 

He’d listen, she knew he would. Robb would never punish her for telling the truth. He’d understand, probably, the way the lines could be muddled and the pain of wanting someone who couldn’t be yours.

 

She couldn’t find the words though, so she only nodded and they continued on.

 

“He does seem like a nice guy,” Robb allowed as they neared the Crow’s Nest, “A bit stiff, maybe, but that could just be nerves.”

 

“Some of it is nerves, some of it is just him,” she told him honestly, “He’s a great guy but he can be a bit… _straight and narrow_.”

 

Robb chuckled, “Some might say that about you, Dovey.”

 

“Oh really?,” she challenged, as they got to the entrance, “Just for that you and me are doing tequila shots. A _lot_ of them.”

 

***

 

“Jon!,” Ella cried when she saw him.

 

She had arrived on Dickon’s arm but hopped into his immediately and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

“Did you miss me?,” she demanded, his arms still around his neck.

 

“ _Terribly_ ,” he teased, though to his surprise he’d found that he kind of had.

 

They’d bonded at the cocktail bar they’d gone to after leaving here the night before. She’d pulled him aside and apologised to him, but she hadn’t gotten to get all the way through her apology before he was bowing down to her, thanking her for giving him the balls to end things with Val.

 

She grinned and asked, “So much that you’ll do a shot with me?,” she leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Between you and me I could use one.”

 

It didn’t take a genius to catch her meaning, considering that she’d arrived with Dickon, and he found that he liked her even more for not being taken in by him.

 

He chuckled and set her down, introducing her to Tormund, Sam, Grenn, and Pip. Green and Pip were looking at her like she’d just stepped out of their day dreams as she took off her coat.

 

She did look beautiful and he grabbed her coat and hung it up on the hook underneath his.

 

“What’ll it be, little one?,” he asked her, “Whiskey? Tequila?”

 

“Yes,” she deadpanned and Tormund guffawed.

 

“Make it two,” he said and high fived Ella when she held up her hand for one.

 

He went to order the shots when he heard Robb yelling at him from across the bar.

 

“Whatever you’re ordering, add two more Snow!”

 

“EACH,” Sansa called.

 

“Oh boy,” Sam said.

 

Ella had crossed to Gilly, who she and Sansa had gone shopping with today. The pair of them were chatting like old friends, Gilly shooing Pip and Grenn away from Ella.

 

That was made unnecessary when Robb and Sansa joined them and Robb grabbed Ella’s hand and spun her dramatically to him, kissing her lightly and whispering something in her ear that made her giggle.

 

She whispered something back and Robb turned red and grinned.

 

Robb and Ella just fit together and something like jealousy churned in his stomach as Robb took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around Ella’s small shoulders.

 

He turned away from them at the exact moment Sansa was removing her coat and coincidentally, the same moment that his heart stopped beating.

 

She was stunning. He’d known that. A blind man would know that. Tonight though…

 

She was wearing a navy blue cocktail dress and had pulled her hair back into some intricate half up style. Her eyes looked positively electric and she wore a delicate pearl necklace that rested against her collarbone. She was such a lady, and if Val wanted to call her a Disney Princess that was fine with him because from his perspective there had never been one more beautiful or kind or more deserving of a happy ending.

 

“Sansa,” he said stupidly.

 

“Hi,” she said shyly, extracting herself from Dickon’s side to say hello to everyone.

 

It was unbelievable that she’d only known everyone for less than two months from the way they all greeted her. She and Sam, in particular, had gotten quite close which made sense. Not only because she was dating his brother or because he and Sam were best friends or because she spent so much time with Gilly, but they were both fiercely intelligent, and though quiet, had a great wit, and above all else, they were both deeply good.

 

“Sam, you’ll never believe what I found,” Sansa told him as she kissed his cheek.

 

“What’s that?,” he asked with a blush. He wasn’t used to the attention she gave him.

 

“The recipe for the pistachio loaf I was telling you about. I’ll bake some tomorrow afternoon and drop it by if that’s alright?,” she asked hopefully, as though he was the one doing her a favor.

 

“That’s very kind of you,” Sam said, “And in that case, Jon’ll already be there for dinner, can you join us?”

 

“Oh,” Sansa said and looked over at him. He gave her a close lipped smile and she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, “Sure, that would be lovely. If I won’t be intruding.”

 

“Not at all, Gilly’ll be grateful not to be left with the two of us,” Sam noted and Sansa giggled, believing that.

 

If he were a smarter man, he would get some distance from her. Things were getting too muddled, too confused. But he had never claimed to be a smart man and the idea of another night with Sansa was not something he could turn down.

 

Ella pulled Sansa and Gilly away to go dance. It wasn’t a dancing kind of place but none of the patrons were complaining as the three girls moved to the beat. Daario, the bartender, turned up the volume, pointing at them when Ella and Sansa blew kisses at him.

 

Robb came over and looked at the shots he’d amassed.

 

“Weren’t they supposed to be doing these?,” he wondered.

 

“I don’t know much,” Jon said, “But I know enough not to get in their way when they’re dancing.”

 

Robb picked up one of the shots of whiskey and held it towards him, “To knowing a little.”

 

Jon picked up another one and said, “And drinking a lot.”

 

*

 

He and Sansa woke up a little worse for wear.

 

“No!,” Sansa shouted when he got out of bed.

 

He bent over, “Sansa if I don’t drink some water I might die. Do you want me to die?”

 

“I guess not,” she grumbled, taking her duvet and wrapping it around herself like a cocoon.

 

He went into the kitchen, his hand over his eyes against the sun and poured himself a glass of water and one for Sansa. She’d had the good sense to load up the coffeemaker the night before so he pressed the button, hoping that they would be more alive by the time it was ready.

 

He went back into her bedroom and climbed into bed. She threw some comforter at him and he got underneath, pulling her closer to him.

 

“Whyyyy,” she asked, burrowing into him and running her cold bare feet against his calves.

 

His head hurt so much that he almost grabbed her foot to place against his forehead, but he figured that would be an entirely new kind of crazy, even for him.

 

“I think we should blame Robb,” Jon suggested.

 

“ _FUCK Robb_ ,” Sansa growled and then giggled against his chest.

 

In truth, Robb wasn’t entirely to blame. They all had done their fair share of coaxing and had been out until well after four in the morning. It had been great until the end when they all had to say goodbye.

 

Ella and Sansa’s happy go lucky demeanours vanished and they held each other tightly, tears running down their faces. It wasn’t the way drunk girls cry in the bathroom either. He and Robb stood there hopelessly watching them and when they’d heard a sob leave Sansa’s chest he knew he wasn’t the only one who’d had to wipe a tear away. It was fucking heartbreaking to watch.

 

He ran his hand through Sansa’s hair, which he thought might comfort him more than it comforted her at this point. She sighed against him though, and pulled him closer to her.

 

“You had something to tell me when I was sober,” she reminded him.

 

He closed his eyes and willed his head to stop pounding.

 

“Yeah the police chief called me yesterday afternoon,” he told her. “They picked someone up that matches Ramsay’s description. They want you to come in today to ID him.”

 

“Oh,” she said softly, “Okay.”

 

“It’s good news,” he reminded her, kissing her temple, “It could be over.”

 

“Yeah,” she nodded, but she was pulling at the collar of his t shirt in the way she did when she was thinking hard about something.

 

“Sansa?,” he prompted.

 

“I’m being stupid,” she grumbled.

 

“Sansa,” he sighed. She was never stupid.

 

“It’s a good thing if they caught him,” she agreed. She pulled away and looked at him and there was mist in her beautiful blue eyes, “But I’m going to miss you.”

 

“Where am I going?,” he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“Well… if we are no longer nervous about Ramsay… there won’t be a need for you to sleep here every night…,” she said slowly.

 

 _Oh_.

 

“Right,” he said, because he had to say something.

 

“But maybe sometimes?,” she asked, “We could still have sleepovers?”

 

“Sleepovers?,” he grinned, “I’m not painting my toenails.”

 

“Come on, I’ll buy black nail polish, it’ll be _totally_ badass…,” she teased. Her face fell though and she said, “I just don’t want to lose you.”

 

“You won’t,” he promised, then confessed, “You can’t.”

 

She smiled and then wrapped her arm around his neck and rolled them so he was on his back and she was half on top of him, half on the bed. He ran his knuckle up and down her spine absentmindedly, closing his eyes and willing more sleep to come. Willing himself to forget about how good her soft body felt pressed against his.

 

“Robb doesn’t like Dickon,” she told him after a while.

 

 _Neither does Ella_.

 

“He’s your big brother, Sansa, can you really imagine him liking anyone you date?,” he asked her.

 

She was silent for a little while and he thought she might have fallen back asleep.

 

“Yeah… I can imagine it.”

 

***

 

_Meanwhile…_

 

“I don’t like him,” Robb said when he noticed Ella had woken up.

 

“ _R-o-o-bb_ ,” she practically sobbed from the passenger seat.

 

“Do you?,” he challenged.

 

“I’m not sure I like _you_ very much right now,” she grumbled, picking up his arm and bringing his hand to her forehead.

 

He pressed against it gently, for some reason this helped her when she was hungover.

 

“You love me,” he said quietly.

 

“Terribly,” she said sweetly as he stroked her cheek.

 

She tilted on her side, leaning her cheek against the back of her seat and looked at him. He glanced at her and couldn’t help but smile. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she was wearing a sweatshirt of his, and even hungover and unshowered she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

 

“The truth is, baby,” she said when he turned back to the road, “It doesn’t matter whether or not I like him.”

 

Robb sighed, she was so fucking loyal. It was as annoying in moments like this as it was heartwarming in others.

 

“I know we don’t to dictate who we date -,” he started.

 

“That’s not what I mean,” she interrupted. “It isn’t going to last. He’s not the one she really wants. So I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, he’ll be gone before the first snows really fall.”

 

“Is she dating someone else?,” he wondered.

 

Sansa hadn’t mentioned anything about that to him.

 

“No, she’s not dating anyone else,” she sighed, tucking her legs up on the seat and grabbing one of the bottles of water to take a sip.

 

“Then what? Who?,” he asked.

 

She took his hand and brought it to her lips, “You know I’m not going to tell you that, baby.”

 

“Well now I’m not sure that I like _you_ ,” he grumbled.

 

“Yes you are,” she said softly.

 

She leaned her head against his arm and before too long he heard her breath steady and the gentle weight of her sleeping form.

 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he told her softly, “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a monster and I can't stop with this story.


	10. Wuthering Heights

“This was nice,” Dickon said, hooking his arm around her neck gently and pressing a kiss to her hair, “It feels like ages since it’s been just you and me…”

 

He wasn’t wrong. With Ella and Robb having been in the week before, and their only date night having included Jon and Sam this week (they’d all gone to see Gilly’s 4th grader’s production of CATS - a performance none of them would ever forget), they really hadn’t had time one on one.

 

He seemed to be okay with it most of the time. He and Sam were in a better place than ever, and he graciously credited a lot of that to her. Gilly had become her closest friend here, other than Jon who didn’t really count, and the four of them had double dates a lot.

 

He was less of a fan of Tormund and the rest of them than she was - she’d walk on hot coals for Tormund if he asked her to, which she wouldn’t tell him because then he would _definitely_ ask her to - but he had fun on their nights out and did his best, though he usually stuck with her, Gilly and Sam.

 

“I know, I’m sorry,” she told him, wrapping an arm around his waist, “But I’m here now, _all on my little lonesome_ , what should we do? A movie? Speakeasy? _Cake?_ Anything-“ she paused when her cell phone beeped. She looked at it briefly, trying to hide the message from him and put it back in her pocket, “Anything you want.”

 

“Who was that?,” he asked her. She shook her head, “Jon?”

 

She hadn’t failed to note the tone he used when he said Jon’s name. There was no love lost between the two of them and despite both being cordial to one another for the most part, they never failed to be snippy about the other with her.

 

“Gilly,” she corrected.

 

“Oh,” he nodded, relaxing a bit, “What did she have to say?”

 

“They’re at the pub, wanted to know if we’d come around,” Sansa said, “I’ll tell her no though.”

 

“But you don’t want to,” Dickon guessed. She looked up at him, trying to see if he was angry. He smiled at her though, “Sansa it’s _fine_. I get it - they’re a fun group. And with you working so hard in school… I understand the desire to blow off some steam. I just…”

 

“Just what?,” though she had an idea already.

 

“Well every time we go, I feel like… like… it’s just a matter of time before you leave on Jon’s arm. I mean… we’ve been dating for a while now… and it hasn’t changed since that first night…,” he told her.

 

He wasn’t wrong. Jon always walked her home. She felt a guilty knot in her stomach, wondering how he’d feel if he knew that now when Jon walked her home he slept in her bed.

 

She didn’t really have to wonder though, because she knew. He’d be devastated.

 

Even still, she couldn’t say that she waned to stop.

 

On Sunday she’d gone with him down to the police station. The guy the police had thought was Ramsay wasn’t, he was just a very scared brown haired blue eyed guy who didn’t seem to understand why he was there. Which meant that Ramsay was still out there.

 

Thankfully she hadn’t seen him since he’d come to her school that one day, and the police were on the lookout for him thanks to Jon. Even still, the idea that he could just pop out at any point made it impossible to sleep without Jon there.

 

She knew if she told Dickon everything that he’d be sympathetic. But he’d still be hurt, that she wanted Jon there and not him. He was wary of Jon’s intentions with her, which was silly. Though Jon had long since stopped thinking of her just as Robb’s sister, he’d never hit on her, or tried to do anything more than cuddle with her.

 

Much to her dismay.

 

She wasn’t entirely sure when she’d started wanting him, but she knew that it had to have been one of the mornings when she’d woken up tangled up in him. Feeling his strong body against hers, the way he was always gripping her as though he was afraid that she’d leave.

 

She knew it wasn’t entirely fair to Dickon, but in her defence she liked Dickon. And she knew she could never have Jon. So what did it matter what her feelings were?

 

“How about it does tonight?,” she found herself asking.

 

“T-tonight?,” he gulped.

 

For a devastatingly attractive guy, who could be quite timid. Which was very endearing.

 

“Yeah,” she said, pulling him closer, “How about we go to the bar and meet everyone for a drink, and _then_ , you bring me home…?”

 

“Let’s go,” he grinned, suddenly eager to get there.

 

***

 

If Jon Snow was honest with himself, which he couldn’t help being after a few whiskeys, he was sick and fucking tired of watching Sansa walk in on the arm of Dickon Tarly.

 

At least he was always the one to bring her home. That was the main thing, he supposed.

 

Except it wasn’t. Because Dickon was getting her. It didn’t matter that he was getting her less, he was getting her. She curled her hair for him and put on make up. She stood in front of her mirror and chose different outfits to wear. She thought of stories throughout the week to tell him.

 

She didn’t do any of those things for Jon.

 

He didn’t want her to. He liked that she was fresh out of the shower sometimes when he came to her apartment. Her hair would be wrapped up in a towel and sometimes she’d be wearing one of his t shirts, and she’d greet him with a _“You’ll never believe what happened…_ ” not even bothering to greet him because she was so eager to get the story out.

 

She didn’t stockpile anything, didn’t have to think about topics beforehand.

 

 _She should be with you_ , that stubborn voice in his head told him. For some reason it sounded like Ella.

 

That made him miss her, even though he hardly knew her, and pulled out his phone.

 

_Jon: Tell me you miss me._

 

_Ella: You sound like Dovey! But I miss you bothhhh. Robb does too. He’s jealous you didn’t text him._

 

_Jon: You’re prettier. And smarter. And funnier._

 

_Ella: He’s definitely prettier than me. As for the other two… well thank goodness he’s pretty._

 

_Ella: Where’s Dovey?_

 

_Jon: She’s here. With Dickon._

 

_Ella: Hey can I tell you this really out of the blue story that has absolutely nothing to do with anything?_

 

_Jon: Go for it._

 

_Ella: Okay, so once upon a time, there was a girl and a boy. The boy fell in love with the girl, but for some reason, he didn’t fucking tell her. So, for two long years they argued and dated the wrong people, and their hearts broke, just a little bit, every day._

 

_Ella: And then one night, his best friend told him to go for it. So he did. And they lived happily ever after._

 

_Ella: Okay well, they’ve only been dating for a couple of months, but they are really really happy. Like so happy it hurts sometimes._

 

_Jon: Sansa and I aren’t you and Robb. It’s entirely different._

 

_Ella: I have no idea what you’re talking about. It was just a story._

 

_Ella: But it’s not entirely different._

 

He sighed and put his phone away. Sansa had told him early on that Ella had the annoying habit of always being right. He wasn’t surprised that she had seen right through him, but the fact that he was still alive suggested that Robb, pretty though he was, had not caught on.

 

He realised that he was being anti-social. Before Sansa, that would have been fine. His friends were used to it. But Sansa was always _wanting to make sure that he was okay_ and everything. So he got up from his bar stool and walked over to where she was standing with Gilly.

 

“Ella says hey,” he lied.

 

She grinned, “I know she was just texting me. She said to say the same to you.”

 

That caught his interest. He wondered if Ella had shared her story with Sansa. He was torn between hoping that she did and praying that she didn’t.

 

The night past in the usual manner. Grenn and Tormund drank too much, Gilly and Sansa danced. The bartender Daario was obsessed with Sansa, and he always put on a special playlist for her.

 

When it was late enough that it was an acceptable time to go home, he crossed the bar and walked over to where Sansa was sitting.

 

“Hey Dovey, ready to head out?,” he asked her.

 

She turned to him with a smile and then her face crumbled, “Um… actually… Dickon’s going to take me home tonight.”

 

“Oh…okay,” he nodded, though that seemed kind of silly. “Should I come by in like a half hour?”

 

She got off the bar stool and stood closer to him. When she was this close he could smell her flowery perfume and see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

 

“No um… I don’t think you should come by tonight,” she told him.

 

_Dickon’s going to take me home tonight._

 

It hit him like a ton of bricks. She wanted _Dickon_. Dickon. She wanted Dickon? She wanted _him_ to take her home? And what? Stay there? With her? To…

 

_To fuck, you fucking moron._

 

That voice sounded like Theon, not Ella.

 

“Sansa…,” he started, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. “Don’t.”

 

She clenched her jaw, “Don’t do this, Jon. I’m really tired of the two of you and your inability to get along. Hasn’t he proven himself?”

 

“Well, I guess,” he said, because in truth he had.

 

He wasn’t sure that he’d ever like him, but he couldn’t deny that he treated Sansa well. And considering that to his knowledge this was the first time he’d be taking her home, he clearly hadn’t pushed her either.

 

“Then why?,” she asked, “Why not? Unless there’s some other reason.”

 

“Some other reason?,” he gulped.

 

Her blue eyes flickered up to his and something flashed in them. She stepped even closer to him and he stepped back, his back up against the bar.

 

“Is there?,” she asked quietly. “Is there another reason why you don’t want me to bring him home?”

 

_Because I love you._

 

_Because I’m not sure I can sleep anywhere but your bed anymore._

 

_Because it should be me._

 

“No,” he coughed, “No there’s no other reason. Have fun.”

 

“ _Have fun?!_ ,” she practically screamed at him. He was too surprised to say anything so she let out a harsh chuckle. “You bet your ass I’ll have fun. Goodnight Jon.”

 

With that she turned on her heel and grabbed Dickon and practically dragged him out of the bar. All he could do was watch them go.

 

_The boy fell in love with the girl, but for some reason, he didn’t fucking tell her._

 

And his heart broke, more than a little.

 

*

Jon woke up hours later to an insisting buzzing. He walked, bleary eyed to the door and opened it, ready to kill whoever was there with his bare hands.

 

“Sansa?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh this one was really hard to get back into. hope it was alright! xx


	11. Utopia

“Sansa?,” Jon asked, bleary eyed and gorgeous.

 

“Can I come in?,” she wondered.

 

He nodded, rubbing his eyes and stepped aside to let her into his apartment. She had only been here a few times before, most of their time was spent at her place.

 

It was neat and orderly, some might call it austere. It was very different than her place and it made the image of Jon underneath one of her cream colored throws all the more endearing.

 

“What are you doing here?,” he asked, “You can’t be out on your own, not with Ramsay still out there…”

 

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she told him honestly. “With the way we left things.”

 

He crossed the small distance to her and took her face in his hands. The look in his eye was intense but his hands were gentle. As was his voice.

 

“I would _always_ come for you,” he promised. “Sansa you have to know that…”

 

She looked into his charcoal eyes and realised that he was right. She did know that. She knew that there was nothing that would keep him from her.

 

And she wanted to know why.

 

“I didn’t sleep with Dickon,” she told him.

 

He flinched, something crossing over his eyes that looked a little bit like hope and a lot like fear.

 

“That’s none of my business,” he choked out.

 

He moved away from her then and she wouldn’t have it.

 

“It is your business,” she corrected, “Because you’re the reason why.”

 

**_Three hours earlier_ **

 

_They entered her apartment still laughing. She wasn’t entirely sure what they were laughing about but they had been giddy, like schoolchildren the whole way home._

 

_“Do you want anything?,” she asked him, “Something to drink, or eat?”_

 

_“Just you,” he told her, tugging her to him._

 

_He kissed her passionately. It felt good, being kissed like that. His lips were purposeful but soft against hers and his chest felt strong underneath her fingertips._

 

_She felt the urgency within him, as his hands gripped her. He had been waiting for this, she knew._

 

_She realised in that moment though, that she had not._

 

_She pushed away from him and he looked down at her in confusion._

 

_“I am just going to go freshen up,” she told him, “M-make yourself at home.”_

 

_He kissed her again and nodded, and she gave him a smile that she hoped was convincing and went into the bathroom._

 

_She pulled out her cellphone and pressed the only name that would calm her._

 

_She listened to the sound of ringing, “Pick up, pick up, pick up-“_

 

_“Dovey?,” Ella’s sleepy voice asked._

 

_“I’m sorry to wake you,” Sansa said softly._

 

_“Dovey what is it? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s Jon?,” Ella asked, suddenly on high alert._

 

_The whole business with Ramsay had shaken her as much as it had Robb. It was like a punch in the gut though, that Ella’s first thought was to ask for Jon. Knowing that he’d be the one to keep her safe._

 

_“I don’t know,” she whimpered, “I… he’s… we’ve been sleeping together.”_

 

_“You’ve been what?!,” Ella gasped._

 

_“Sweetheart what is it?,” she heard Robb ask._

 

_“Nothing, you’re just dreaming, go back to bed, shh, shhh,” Ella ordered and Sansa smiled to herself as she imagined Ella getting out of bed. “Okay, sorry, I’m back.”_

 

_“We haven’t had sex, we haven’t even kissed. We just… sleep in the same bed. We have ever since Ramsay showed up at my apartment that night… I was so scared and…,” she trailed off._

 

_“Dovey, I’m a little sleepy so I’m just going to say it. He loves you too.”_

 

_“How do you know?,” she wondered. “Did he tell you?”_

 

_“Did Robb ever tell you?,” Ella challenged._

 

_Sansa shook her head no though Ella couldn’t see her. He never had. He never had to._

 

_“Dickon’s here,” she confessed, getting to the matter at hand. “I… I asked Jon if there was a reason he didn’t want Dickon taking me back and he said no. He told me to have fun.”_

 

_“Gods that boy is almost as tragic as your brother,” Ella sighed, “But that’s no reason to sleep with someone else.”_

 

_“He’s already here,” Sansa whispered, “I…practically told him that I was going to sleep with him.”_

 

_“So what? No one deserves sex - you have the right to change your mind at any point.”_

 

_“He’ll break up with me,” Sansa knew._

 

_“Would that be so terrible?,” Ella asked, “Really?”_

 

_“I knew you didn’t like him,” Sansa sighed._

 

_“Only because you don’t,” Ella reasoned. She let out a sigh, “I saw the way Jon looks at you. And I saw the way you looked at him and Val. I didn’t go and break that up for my benefit or even Robb’s enjoyment. I saw you, Dovey. You love him, you’re so terribly in love with him.”_

 

_“I am?,” she asked softly._

 

_“And the best part is, he loves you too. I know it. But you need to be brave. Don’t wait around like I did. Have courage, and I promise - I promise, it will be worth it. If I’d known what life could be like, I would have told Robb the first time we met. I would have strode right over to him and kissed him and said, ‘I’m the one for you, Robb Stark. And you’re the one for me.”_

 

_“I love you,” she told her._

 

_“As I love you,” Ella promised._

 

_They hung up and Sansa reached for the doorknob, her hand shaking. She turned it and walked out into the living room to find Dickon putting his coat back on._

 

_“Where are you going?,” she wondered._

 

_He smiled at her sadly, “We’ve been dating two months, Sansa. If that wasn’t long enough to convince you that you wanted to sleep with me, another five minutes in the bathroom sure wasn’t going to do it.”_

 

_“I’m sorry,” she told him._

 

_It was pathetic, not nearly enough, but it was all she had. He walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her temple. Now that he was leaving she felt the sudden urge for him to stay._

 

_He was safe, but only because her feelings for him weren’t strong enough to make him dangerous._

 

_“Goodbye, Sansa Stark,” he said, “I’m not sure that he deserves you, but you deserve the chance to find out.”_

 

 

“What?,” Jon asked, turning around.

 

“You heard me,” she told him. She crossed the distance to him, “I’m the one for you, Jon Snow. And _you’re_ the one for me.”

 

She’d been told not to wait for him, but it didn’t matter. Because the next thing she knew, Jon was kissing her.

 

And Ella was right, she really did love him.

 

***

 

“You heard me,” she told him, her voice strong and steady. Unlike how he felt, like a green boy who’d never stood before a woman. But she was there now and she was so very close and then she said it. The words of his damnation. “I’m the one for you, Jon Snow. And _you’re_ the one for me.”

 

He pulled her by the back of her head and kissed her harshly, far harsher than he meant to. It didn’t matter his intentions though because she moaned into his mouth, her fingers finding purchase in his hair.

 

She tasted like honey and wildfire and he locked her slender body against his. He sucked her bottom lip and she pulled his hair, pressing herself more firmly against him.

 

“Sansa I-,” he started, panting heavily.

 

“I know,” she nodded, “But don’t you dare stop.”

 

If he was well and truly damned then he was going to make sure to earn it. He picked her up by the backs of her legs and she wrapped them around his waist. His hand cupped her perfect ass to support her as she continued to run her hands through his hair, her lips on his ear.

 

He walked them back into his bedroom and tackled her to the bed. She clung to him as though he might leave her. She had far too much faith in him if she thought that was a possibility.

 

She was still wearing her coat and he unbuttoned and tugged it off of her, throwing it on the bed. She’d changed out of her dress and was wearing a sweater of his over jeans.

 

“I’ve been looking for this,” he teased against her lips.

 

“Here,” she smiled against his, tugging it up her body, “Have it back.”

 

He held her firmly by the back of her head and kissed her again and again before tugging it up and over her.

 

She was wearing nothing on top but a black lacy bra and he wondered if she’d put it on for him. For this. Black was, after all, his favorite color.

 

But right now it was in his way.

 

He bent his head and kissed one breast over her bra and then the other. They were soft and warm and heaving.

 

He tugged one cup down, revealing a rosebud nipple and took it in between his lips.

 

“ _Jon!_ ,” she gasped, her back arching off the bed.

 

He suckled on it, his hand cupping the soft weight of it and squeezing gently. He kissed up to the top of her breast and then along her chest the short distance to the other. He freed that one as well but he tugged on her nipple with his teeth and she let out a cry.

 

“Sansa,” he choked out.

 

His hand trailed down her body, over the rickets of her ribs and down the smooth flatness of her stomach. He cupped her through her jeans, his eyes moving up to look at her face when she gasped.

 

He could feel the heat of her through the material. He massaged her gently and she let out a smiling sigh.

 

She turned to look at him and raised her soft palm to his cheek.

 

“I want this,” she promised, “I’ve wanted this for so long. Please Jon, tell me you want this to. Tell me you mean it.”

 

He wrapped his arm around her back and lifting her up to him, “I want you, Sansa Stark. And I’m going to show you just how much I mean it.”

 

He kissed her waiting lips again and then dragged his lips to her cheek and down her neck, easing her back to the bed.

 

He unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down, bringing her panties with her. They’d both, it seemed, waited long enough.

 

Her legs locked back together firmly though and he looked up at her.

 

“It’s me, Sansa, it’s just you and me,” he told her, “There’s no reason to be afraid.”

 

She smiled at that and took a deep breath and let her legs fall open. He looked down at her and groaned at the sight of her. She was pink and glistening and perfect.

 

He lowered his face to her and breathed in her intoxicating smell, before letting his tongue swipe along her entrance.

 

_Honey, here, as well._

 

He had intended to take it slow, ease her into it, but he buried his face in her. He licked and kissed her parting her folds and finding her sweet little pearl. When he sucked on her she let out a cry and he did it again.

 

He kissed further down her and licked his way into her entrance.

 

“My clit Jon, suck my clit,” she pleaded and he thought he was going to come on the spot.

 

He moved back and sucked on it, lathering it with his tongue. He brought two fingers and eased them into her. She was tight and his fingers stretched her. He sucked on her pearl and he felt her opening up to him.

 

He wanted to rut against the bed like a pubescent boy as he started to fuck her with his fingers.

 

“ _Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon!!!,”_ she cried and he felt her walls pulsing around his fingers.

 

He fucked and licked her through it, until she was tugging him up by his hair.

 

She kissed him hungrily in spite of where his lips had just been and the thought of her tasting herself on him made him groan into her mouth.

 

“Please,” she sighed, her hands pulling down his sweatpants.

 

He helped her take them off of him, his hard cock springing free against her wet folds. They both let out a cry and she was lifting her hips off the bed.

 

“Condom, condom,” he practically shuddered.

 

“I’m on the pill,” she promised, “I want to feel _all_ of you.”

 

“Seven Hells, Sansa,” he groaned.

 

He knew he was safe and he couldn’t really resist a request like that. He took himself in his hand and she lifted her hips off the bed. She was tight, so tight that she gripped onto his shoulder as he tried to ease himself inside.

 

“Just us,” he told her again against her lips. “Just you and me.”

 

She smiled and nodded and he felt her relax enough to push further inside, until their hips met.

 

“Just us,” she repeated, her hand trailing down his back.

 

He started to move inside of her and every thrust brought with it a wave of pleasure he’d never felt before. He’d had sex with a number of women, too many some might say, but none had ever felt like this.

 

“I thought of this,” she told him, “When I’d wake up in bed with you. Some-some- _ohh-ohhh_.”

 

“Some what?,” he gritted out, increasing his pace and rocking his hips so keep hitting her in the spot that made her say _ohhh_.

 

“Some nights I’d dream about it…,” she sighed, her eyes closed.

 

Her legs were on either side of his waist, one hand on the small of his back, urging him against her while the other held onto his hair. He was surrounded by her in every way imaginable and it wasn’t enough.

 

“So would I,” he confessed, “Waking up with you in my arms, _oh gods_ , you have no idea how much I wanted you.”

 

“Say it again,” she pleaded, her hips rising to meet his. “Tell me again.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, “You have no idea. No idea. Sansa, _oh fuck, Sansa, gods you feel so good_.”

 

“I’m going to come, Jon, don’t stop, _please, please_ ,” she begged.

 

He wouldn’t stop now if the walls were burning down around them.

 

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he begged her, knowing his own release was bound to come quickly, “Come for me, love.”

 

He rocked his hips into her again and he felt her, tightening around him, there were tears in her eyes and she went entirely silent, her face contorted into the most beautiful depiction of pleasure he’d ever seen.

 

He followed quickly after, coming with a great cry.

 

“Sansa, I-,” he started.

 

“If you’re going to tell me this was a mistake, please don’t. That sort of thing can wait until morning,” she reasoned, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her lips met his, “This on the other hand…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I redeemed myself?


	12. A Tale of Two Cities

 

Sansa walked into the cold winter air and smiled in relief. The lecture hall had been stuffy and with her least interesting professor and she had felt herself starting to fade as he droned on.

 

Her smile widened when she saw Jon Snow, leaning up against his truck, a winter rose in hand.

 

She trotted down the stairs and jumped into his waiting arms.

 

“Hello, I’m Sansa,” she cooed at him.

 

“That better not be how you’re introducing yourself to everyone these days,” he warned her and then leaned forward and captured her lips in his.

 

Her whole body warmed despite the cold and their frozen breath intermingled when they parted.

 

“Well not _everyone_ ,” she promised.

 

He grinned at her and set her down, but he pulled her by her cheeks back to him and kissed her again.

 

She had been surprised at first at how affectionate Jon was. She shouldn’t have been, considering the way they’d always slept tangled like vines and how often he’d sling his arm around her as they walked home at night, but she still had been. Pleasantly so. He couldn’t seem to resist touching her and that was very perfectly fine with her.

 

“I missed you,” she confessed like a lovesick teenager.

 

The corners of his eyes crinkled and he murmured at her, “I missed you too.”

 

“Can we get tacos for dinner?,” she asked, “And margaritas?”

 

He grinned at her fully now, “Trying to get me drunk, Stark?”

 

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him again, “For starters,” she murmured against his lips.

 

“Don’t think of taking advantage of me,” he warned, “I’ve got my virtue to protect.”

 

She let out a surprised cackle and he looked at her like she was a crazy person, but he took her hand and walked her around to his passenger seat and let her in.

 

Jon Snow, she’d learned long before they’d even gotten together, was a gentleman. A hold-the-door-open-hold-the-umbrella-over-you-carry-your-heavy-backpack gentleman, the kind that she’d sworn were a dying breed. He liked to _pretend_ to be very gruff and tough but he was an absolute softy - at least when it came to her.

 

That was all well and good because after years of being Robb Stark’s younger sister she had very high standards of how she should be treated and Jon surpassed all of them.

 

He got in the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb, heading towards her apartment where they’d leave his truck and walk to the restaurant.

 

“How was work?,” she asked.

 

“Fine,” he told her, like always. He could never actually tell her how his day was, but she always asked anyway. They could be at war with Yunkai or have just successfully extracted a political prisoner and he’d still say _fine_. “Mormont wants to meet you though.”

 

She blushed and turned to look at him, “Me? Really?”

 

He nodded, “This is the third day in a row that I’ve left before 9 o’clock. He wants to meet the reason why.”

 

A pang of guilt hit her, “Is he angry? I know you usually work longer hours…”

 

He smiled and said, “Not at all, just curious. He knows I’m always on call if he needs me. Think we could go to dinner with him and his wife next week?”

 

She bit her lip to hide her smile. That was so _coupley_. They hadn’t really talked about what they were, after the way they’d gotten together she hadn’t really felt the need to. Dinner with the boss though was firmly ensconced in girlfriend territory.

 

“I’d love to,” she nodded.

 

She had been curious about Mormont since their first dinner. Though Jon couldn’t share details about his actual work, he told her all about his boss. He clearly respected him more than just about anyone, and their relationship sounded almost filial.

 

Jon picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

 

“You’ll love his wife,” he told her, “She’s a spitfire, but really kind. She reminds me a bit of your mom, actually.” He glanced over at her and smiled sadly and she squeezed his hand, “And she’s been wanting me to get myself a proper girlfriend for ages.”

 

_Well I guess that answers that._

 

“I hope she likes me,” she told him.

 

This was beginning to feel more like a _meet-the-parents_ kind of thing.

 

He chuckled, “No fear on that count, love.”

 

She glanced at him and he glanced at her and she shivered all over. The way he affected her would make her nervous if it was anyone other than Jon. He could light her body on fire with a single touch and send a jolt of pleasure through her with nothing more than a look. No one had ever had that kind of power over her, and she was just lucky that the first man that did was one as good and trustworthy as him.

 

“Do you, uh, need to stop into your apartment for anything before we go?,” he asked her, his voice low.

 

She bit her lip to hide her grin. He was as helpless against her she’d learned. She only _occasionally_ abused it.

 

“Well I mean…,” she started, pulling his hand over to her and raising it to her lips. “I should at least check my mail.”

 

With that she took his index finger in between her teeth and dragged it gently.

 

“Seven hells, Sansa,” he growled at her.

 

“You started it,” she pointed out.

 

He dropped his hand down to her lap and traced his finger between her crossed legs.

 

“I’ll finish it too.”

 

***

 

“Seven hells, Jon,” Sansa whimpered.

 

It was looking like they’d have to order tacos and make margaritas at her apartment. _Checking the mail_ had turned into making out in the elevator which had turned into undressing each other in her living room which had turned into him eating her out on her couch which had turned into her riding him on her floor.

 

He pulled her face to him and kissed her deeply, his fingers weaving into her painfully soft hair.

 

“What was that flippy thing?,” she asked him.

 

He smiled a bit smugly, “I don’t know, I just had an idea and ran with it.”

 

“It was a great use of ingenuity,” she confirmed and he chuckled.

 

She laid down on top of him fully and he traced the trail of her spine with his fingertips. She shivered against him and he felt her nipples harden and he let his hand fall down to squeeze her perfect butt.

 

They’d only been having sex for about a week or so but he’d never come so hard in his life as he did when he was inside her. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces and there was no feeling quite like it. He was addicted to her, a junkie, and all he could think about now was getting his next fix.

 

He rolled her over and let his fingers trail down her side as he lowered his face to her breast, kissing the warm plumpness of it.

 

Her body was perfection, and though he’d always assumed it would be, there was nothing like the image of her naked and splayed out for him. She let him feast on her body, relishing in his gluttony, and seemed to delight just as much in his.

 

He’d always considered his body a tool at his disposal, and had never really thought much about it, but that was before she had traced her tongue in the divits of his abs or let her hands trail over the muscles of his back. And definitely before she’d bitten his ass.

 

 _“Sansa!,_ ” _he yelped._

 

_“It’s so pretty,” she cooed._

 

_She had been sitting on his back, giving him a massage, when he’d felt her teeth close on one cheek._

 

_“You are so weird,” he chuckled._

 

_“Weird would be having access to this booty and not biting it,” she argued._

 

_“Please don’t call it a booty.”_

 

_“But it’s so bootyful.”_

 

“I’m hungry,” she told him.

 

“Mmm,” he nodded, kissing her breastbone, “Me too.” He was kissing his way down her body when he actually heard her stomach growl though. He pressed a kiss to her belly button, “I’ll order. But I know what I’m having for dessert.”

 

“Pervert,” she admonished.

 

“Pot, kettle,” he pointed out.

 

She giggled and nodded, allowing him to help her up. He went over to her counter and grabbed his cell phone to call the restaurant. They’d been there a few times so he knew what she’d want and he grinned over at her as she fluffed up the pillows on her couch buck naked.

 

He went to dial when his phone started ringing and he saw _Robb_ on the caller ID.

 

He coughed and answered the phone, “Hey.”

 

“Am I catching you at work?,” Robb asked, clearly wondering about the clipped tone.

 

“Uh nope, just with Dovey about to order some dinner,” he told him, purposefully leaving out the fact that his little sister had just fucked him into oblivion.

 

“Oh can you put her on? El’s birthday is coming up and I want her opinion on something,” Robb asked.

 

“Sure, just a sec,” he pulled the phone away from his ear and covered the mouthpiece, “Sansa it’s Robb, he wants to talk to you.”

 

She whipped around, her eyes wide, “I can’t talk to him, I’m naked.”

 

“He can’t see you,” Jon pointed out.

 

“ _NO BUT I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU!,”_ he heard Robb shout. “WHY IS MY SISTER NAKED, SNOW?! WHY WOULD SHE EVER NEED TO BE NAKED?!”

 

Sansa doubled over in laughter and he was about to double over for another reason. That _certainly_ was not the way that he had intended for Robb to find out. Though the fact that Robb was 200 miles away was slightly reassuring.

 

“Put him on speakerphone,” Sansa urged. He closed his eyes and pressed the button. “Hello Robbert.”

 

“Hello Robbert? Mother, maiden, _crone_ Sansa Stark,” Robb sighed.

 

“I make him happy,” Sansa promised, then looked at him wide-eyed, “Don’t I?”

 

In spite of the circumstance he couldn’t help smiling at her and nodding, “Indecently so.”

 

Her grin made everything worthwhile.

 

“And you?,” Robb asked, “Sansa?”

 

“Obnoxiously happy,” Sansa assured him.

 

“Well then alright, oh Ella just walked in. _Sweetheart, come in here, you’ll never guess what Sansa and Jon just told me_ ,” he called.

 

“ _Is it something other than the fact that they are sleeping together?,”_ Ella called back.

 

“ _YOU KNEW?!?!”_

 

_“Of course I knew.”_

 

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_

 

_“Why would I?”_

 

_“Because it’s my sister and my best friend.”_

 

_“And?”_

 

_“Do I need another reason?”_

 

_“Calm down you look like you’re going to pop a blood vessel.”_

 

_“You could at least pretend that you’re not enjoying this.”_

 

_“I’m not good at hiding my emotions.”_

 

_“BUT A SECRET AFFAIR BETWEEN MY BEST FRIEND AND SISTER YOU ARE CAPABLE OF HIDING?!”_

 

“Uhh guys? Do we need to be here for this?,” Sansa asked.

 

“Dovey? _Robb they’ve been on the phone this whole time? Gods you’re a piece of work._ Helloooo lovers.”

 

“It’s not an affair, by the way,” Jon pointed out.

 

“So what is it?,” Robb asked.

 

“ _None of our business, most likely,_ ” Ella chided him.

 

“ _Ella don’t test me right now,”_ Robb growled at her, “ _I’m still mad at you._ ”

 

“That’s probably fair,” Sansa nodded, “It was her idea after all.”

 

“Sansa!,” Ella shouted.

 

“It was _definitely_ all Ella’s fault,” Jon agreed whole-heartedly.

 

“ _What did you do?,”_ Robb asked her.

 

“ _I told her that if she felt about him the way I feel about you then she shouldn’t waste another second of her life not being with him,”_ Ella told him, “ _Now do you want to shout at me some more?”_

 

 _“Oh sweetheart,”_ Robb murmured, “ _I love you.”_

 

“ _Much better_ ,” Ella said haughtily.

 

“I didn’t know your birthday was coming up, El,” Jon said.

 

“Yep! Twenty-two on the twenty-second,” Ella told him brightly.

 

“What do you want this year?,” Sansa asked.

 

There was silence on the other end and then they heard hushed murmuring.

 

“Will you guys come visit?,” Robb asked.

 

“Don’t feel any pressure!,” Ella pleaded.

 

“ _It’s the only thing you wanted_ ,” Robb argued quietly.

 

“ _They’re both very busy,”_ Ella argued back.

 

Jon thought about Ella, who he’d only just met, but had made his best friend happier than he’d ever seen him, and had nearly single-handedly given him his own happiness. He adored her already and she was the most important person in the world to the two people that were the most important in his world.

 

“We’ll be there,” he promised.

 

Before he knew it, Sansa had hopped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. If making Ella happy made Sansa _this_ happy then he’d do it as much as humanly possible.

 

She kissed his cheek as Ella celebrated on the other end.

 

“Thank you, Jon!,” Ella shouted into the phone.

 

“I still want to know what you want for a gift,” Sansa urged her.

 

“You’ll be my gift,” Ella told her sweetly.

 

“Don’t worry, Robb,” Sansa assured him, “I’ll work on her.”

 

“Thanks Dovey, now put on some clothes,” Robb ordered.

 

“Wait what?,” Ella asked. “You’ve been naked this whole time? You’re my hero Sansa Stark.”

 

“ _Ella!_ ,” Robb chided again.

 

“ _Would you feel better if I got naked?,”_ Ella asked.

 

“We’ve gotta go guys. Bye!,” Robb shouted and hung up.

 

Sansa was giggling in his ear and he set her down on the counter.

 

“You don’t mind going?,” she asked him. “It’d mean so much to her…”

 

“Of course I don’t mind,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “It’s been too long since I’ve been back, and I wouldn’t mind celebrating her being born.”

 

Sansa smiled at that and said, “I don’t understand why Robb is having such a hard time thinking of a present for her. He knows her better than anyone.”

 

“Probably because what he really wants to get her is an engagement ring, and everything else seems trivial,” Jon shrugged.

 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him, “What do you know?”

 

“Nothing,” Jon shook his head, his ears coloring.

 

“IS HE PROPOSING?!,” Sansa asked at an unkind decibel.

 

“No!,” he shook his head, “Of course not. They’ve only been dating a few months…”

 

“Yeah and he’s loved her for years…,” Sansa argued, appraising him with her light blue eyes, “Jon…”

 

“Sansa…,” he evaded. She was looking at him like she didn’t believe him, which was just as well because he was completely lying. There was no way that Robb would make it through the winter without proposing to Ella. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

 

“Are you just trying to change the subject?”

 

“Would I do that?”

 

“You’ve literally had training in evasive techniques,” Sansa pointed out.

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Jon shrugged. She giggled so he went on, “Is that really what Ella told you?”

 

“Not exactly,” Sansa said, now being the one who was evasive. He trailed his fingers down her sides and she let out a deep breath. “She told me that I was in love with you and she told me that if I just had courage it would be worth it.”

 

“Was she right?,” he gulped.

 

“Well considering the fact that I was at your door twenty minutes later, what do you think?,” she asked haughtily.

 

“Fair point,” he conceded. He held her face gently and confessed, “I love you too.”

 

She brushed the hair back from his face and said, “I know, Ella told me.”

 

He chuckled and shook his head, “We’ve _really_ got to find that girl a good birthday gift.”

 

 


	13. A Gentle Creature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaack

“Are you alright?,” Sansa asked.

 

The drive had started out nice enough, with him teasing her about the amount of road trip snacks that she’d brought for a mere three hour drive and her only giving him a small triumphant smile when he reached in the snack bag. They’d listened to the Wight’s first album which he’d finally agreed was better than their second and talked about dinner the night before.

 

They’d had dinner with his boss Joer Mormont and his wife Alice. She had been intimidated to meet the old bear but she needn’t have been, not with the way his eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled like Jon’s did and the way he doted on his wife. He doted on Jon too, though it all came out in gruff sternness, and had been very kind to her.

 

They’d talked about how over the top they imagined Robb would go for Ella’s birthday. Robb was notorious for spoiling the people he loved and loved celebrating their birthdays (though he had no desire to ever celebrate his own). He’d been the one to throw her Sweet Sixteen party, flying down from university to surprise her at her prep school.

 

Ella was not usually one for celebrating herself either but there was nothing she loved quite so much as having everyone she loved in the same room. That meant that it would at least be the Stark siblings, Jon, Theon, her cousin Shireen and her half-brother Gendry. After that it was all a matter of how insane Robb decided to go, but Ella didn’t need more than that.

 

They’d talked about her classes and how he wanted a dog and it had all been very normal and perfectly lovely and then he’d fallen mute. Usually their silences were comfortable. It had always been one of her favourite things about him, about them. The way he stripped away all the noise, the way they didn’t have to speak to enjoy one another’s company. He’d made her so much more comfortable with quiet. Usually when all was quiet she had too much time, too much space to think but he was like Novocain. He made the nothingness sweet, not scary.

 

But this was a different sort of silence. It was the kind that was accompanied by white knuckles on the steering wheel and a nearly manic shifting of the eyes. She imagined, though she had no way of knowing, that this is what he looked like on duty. When he was placed in some terrifying situation.

 

“Fine,” he said curtly.

 

That told her everything she needed to know. He was never curt with her.

 

She turned towards him and crossed her legs, leaning her cheek against the back of her seat and reached her hand out to touch his arm. She was momentarily distracted by the hard muscle she felt there but she stroked it gently.

 

“It’s been a while since you’ve been back,” she said softly.

 

“I said I was fine.”

 

“And you’re a terrible liar.”

 

He sighed and chuckled, “Actually I’m a very good liar. Just not to you… I’m a little nervous.”

 

“What are you nervous about?,” she asked.

 

She realised that she was utilising techniques she’d learned in class. Using touch to establish intimacy, not combating his emotions.

 

He shifted in his seat and his jaw clenched. He flicked his signal and move into the far right lane as they neared the exit.

 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been back. And I know and Robb have forgiven me but Arya? Bran, Rickon? I just… _abandoned_ them and… I… there’s oth- I just hate that I let them down.”

 

She knew that Arya didn’t hold a grudge against Jon, and she doubted that Bran or Rickon did either. Of the three, Arya was the most likely but she loved Jon unconditionally.

 

Still though, she wasn’t going to deny it. He had abandoned them, and though she’d long forgiven him for it, that would always be the case.

 

“This can be a fresh start,” she suggested instead. She lightened her tone and offered, “Because ya _knowww_ if you wanna get with me ya gotta get with my friends.”

 

“Did you just quote the Spice Girls at me?”

 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

 

He chuckled and grabbed the hand that was on his arm and raised it to his lips.

 

“I love you something awful, Sansa Stark.”

 

***

 

Robb had gone predictably over the top.

 

He had kept it at Winterfell, but Jon suspected that was more to do with the lack of neighbors than any sense of restraint.

 

There was a band and a DJ, and he was pretty sure there was someone breathing fire in the next room.

 

Ella looked beautiful and only slightly embarrassed. She’d leapt into his arms when she’d seen him, thanking him for bringing Sansa home.

 

Robb had gifted her a puppy, a little grey husky that hadn’t left her side since he’d been presented to her, and a key to Winterfell. She already had one of course, this one came on a ribbon and with an invitation to stay forever.

 

The ribbon had been Jon’s idea.

 

They’d been having a great time. His nerves had dissipated when they’d pulled into the courtyard to find Ella and all the siblings waiting for them. It had been a mass of tangled limbs and _I’ve missed you_ and Sansa had been telling Rickon that he needed a hair cut and Bran had been telling him he wanted to show him something tomorrow and it was just _home_.

 

“Okay, there she is,” Theon sighed.

 

Jon followed his gaze across the room to where Ella was standing with a beautiful brunette. Their features couldn’t have been anymore dissimilar, but somehow they were very obviously related. He saw the scar across Shireen’s left cheek and agreed with Sansa, it made the rest of her all the more striking.

 

“Your girl’s lovely Hubble,” he cooed and went to go push Theon’s hair back.

 

Theon slapped his hand away and dipped, “ _Duuuude.”_

 

He chuckled and then his heart stopped when he heard a terrified scream.

 

He and Theon turned in tandem back to the pair of beauties where the scream had emanated from.

 

It had been Shireen, not Ella, who had screamed, though it was the golden haired Baratheon that currently had a gun raised to her temple.

 

The music stopped and people started running out.

 

“Nobody moves,” the man holding the gun ordered.

 

He didn’t yell, but he didn’t need to. You could have heard a pin drop.

 

Jon had never met him, but it didn’t matter. He’d seen his picture a thousand times in the past month or so. Ramsay Bolton.

 

“Ramsay, let her go,” a calm voice ordered and Jon’s heart dropped.

 

_No, run. Please, run._

 

“ _Sansa_ ,” Ramsay breathed out.

 

Ella’s eyes closed at the name, a single tear escaping down her cheek, but she stayed perfectly still. Everyone was perfectly still, except the little puppy that Robb had gifted to her.

 

He loved her already and set to attack her attacker. Jon had no doubt that if he was only a little older he could have ripped Ramsay’s jugular out without effort, but as it was he was no larger than a cat.

 

Ramsay kicked him away and the yelp the puppy let out tore through Jon’s heart. It was so defeated and so scared, for her, not himself. He knew the feeling.

 

“Did you come to wish her a happy birthday?,” Sansa asked him calmly.

 

 _How is she so calm_?

 

“I did,” Ramsay nodded, his eyes wide and manic. He said it with such delight though, as though Sansa was the only one who understood him. He pouted though instantly, “You didn’t invite me to the party.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said, walking towards them slowly, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think, of _course_ you’d want to wish her a happy birthday. She has so many guests though, and we have so much to catching up to do…”

 

Jon met Robb’s eye across the room who nodded at him. They were both along the edge of the room and had started moving towards them at the same time. Towards their hearts, which no longer resided in their bodies but with the beautiful girls who now stood most vulnerable.

 

They stayed silent though. No matter how much they hated it, Sansa was the only person that he might hesitate to kill. And the gun was still raised to Ella’s temple.

 

“Did you miss me terribly?,” he asked her.

 

Sansa nodded, tears in her eyes, “It’s been awful. It’s so hard living without someone you love. Isn’t it?”

 

“Yes! Yes that’s exactly it!,” Ramsay nodded excitedly, “That’s what I tried to tell them. That we love each other.”

 

He and Robb were getting closer and Ramsay’s eyes were still on Sansa. He wished he had his gun, but he’d left it locked in the safe in the car.

 

“Tried to tell who?,” Sansa asked.

 

_All those classes being put to a use they weren’t intended for. Keep him talking, love, just a little longer and then he’ll never bother you again._

 

The entire north was looking for him, and they were going to stick him with every thing they could, stalking, breaking and entering, anything that could put him away, but it wasn’t enough. Jon tasted blood in his mouth and Ramsay wasn’t walking out of here alive.

 

“Your parents,” Ramsay said as though she was foolish, as though she should have known.

 

_No. Not him. No. It can’t be. Fuck Sansa, no. No. NO!_

 

It had been the real reason he was nervous about coming back. The reason he’d stayed away. The horrible truth he’d known. The lie he’d told.

 

“M-my parents?,” Sansa asked, her voice shaking for the first time.

 

He nodded, “I tried, I tried, I _fought_ for us Sansa, I promise. Just like you wanted me to. But they wouldn’t listen. They threatened to call the police, to _keep us apart_. They wouldn’t listen, they never would have let us be together. So I had to. Don’t you see? I had to.”

 

“They died in a car accident,” Sansa all but whispered, “It was raining.”

 

“It was raining! Terribly hard,” Ramsay nodded gleefully, “I nearly fell off the road myself but I didn’t, because I had to come back to you.”

 

“You ran them off the road?,” Sansa asked him, her training abandoning her in her horror. “You KILLED my parents? YOU MONSTER!”

 

“Monster? Me? I did it for you, you ungrateful _bitch_ ,” Ramsay sneered.

 

With that he lifted the gun off of Ella’s temple and pointed it right at Sansa.

 

He and Robb both ran forward, and it was with great relief that Ramsay turned towards him in surprise.

 

Jon smiled at him before his world when black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!!!


	14. Crime and Punishment

He woke to a slow and steady beep and an aggressive smell of cleanliness along with a deep heaviness in his bones. None of that mattered, because the moment he opened his eyes they fell upon her.

 

Sansa, whole and alive and there.

 

She had pulled a chair up to his bedside and her head had fallen onto the bed right beside his hand. Her gorgeous, soft auburn hair caressed his knuckles. Her breath was slow and steady but unlike the beeping it was the most miraculous sound he’d ever heard.

 

He had failed to protect her but she had not failed to survive. He had her whole life to make up for his sins.

 

He was surprised to remember, but he remembered it all. The fear in Ella’s eyes right before Ramsay pulled the trigger, and the guttural wail that had followed him into oblivion.

 

He could forget everything, everything that he was, and he would never forget that wail. It had come from her, from Sansa, her love transmuting into anguish with the simple release of a bullet.

 

He lifted his hand, grunting at the exertion that it took, and pushed a lock of hair off of her face to look at her more fully.

 

There were deep, angry circles under her eyes and her bottom lip was being worried, as though she was restless even in sleep, the corners of her nose were red and chapped from crying. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

 

“S-S-San,” he got out before he started coughing.

 

He wasn’t sure whether it was his voice or his coughs which roused her but her clear blue eyes blinked open and looked up to him. She let out a single heart breaking smile and then the tears were falling freely from her eyes as she laughed.

 

She got out of the chair and leaned over him, pressing kisses to his forehead and his cheeks and the sterile smell was replaced by her warm scent as her hair surrounded him and her hands held his head so urgently and tenderly all at once.

 

“Oh Jon, Jon, Jon,” she cried and he wanted to tell her that it was alright, that he was alright, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out.

 

“El-Ella,” he croaked.

 

“She’s alright,” she promised, kissing his lips gently. She pulled back and pushed his hair back. Her cheeks were stained in tears but there was so much happiness in her features, “You saved her.”

 

Relief flooded through his body as though it was coming out of the IVs plugged into his arms.

 

“Ever-“

 

“Everyone’s alright,” she assured him. She sat down gently on his bed and the desire he felt to have her close trumped the shot of pain it sent through his body. She must have understood that he wanted, needed to know what had happened so she didn’t hesitate to go on. “After R-after he shot you, Robb went crazy. He wrenched him off of Ella and threw him to the ground. I think Ramsay was so surprised that he didn’t even fight back. I think he would have killed him with his bare hands if it weren’t for Ella. It… it all happened so fast but… Ella called him off and he saw her safe and he just kind of went limp. Theon pulled Robb off of Ramsay. Gendry and Theon tied him up until the police got there. Rickon went after him again…”

 

“Rick?,” Jon managed.

 

She smiled at him sadly, “He’s not a little kid anymore. He loves Ella more than almost anyone…,” her lower lip trembled, she might be the only person in the world that loved Ella more than Rickon or Robb did. “And…once Ramsay confessed…”

 

Jon felt the overwhelming need to vomit. He knew where this was headed.

 

Sansa let out a heartbroken sob, it wracked her entire body, her slender shoulders shaking with the weight of it.

 

She looked like she had at her parents’ funeral. Devastated and far too thin, and very nearly broken.

 

“Sansa,” he whispered.

 

“He killed them, Jon,” she shook her head. Her jaw set and she went on, “Ramsay. He… found them, after that night… the one I told you about. I thought he just ran but… he went North. Jon… my parent’s car accident? It… it wasn’t… it… it…. _it_ …”

 

He took a deep breath, and uttered what may be the last two syllables he ever uttered to her.

 

“I know.”

 

***

 

She was tired, so incredibly tired.

 

She hadn’t slept, she hadn’t eaten, she had hardly left the hospital. She couldn’t go home. She couldn’t look at any of them, not at Rickon or Bran or Arya. Certainly not Robb, who had perhaps lost the most when their parents died.

 

His childhood and his freedom had been buried along with them in the family crypt.

 

For the past two days she had only one thought: let him live. Just let him live, that’s all she asked. That’s all she would beg the gods for. Not that he’d wake and be fine, nor even that he’d still love her, not that her family would forgive her. Just that one thing. She should have asked them for more.

 

The gods gave only what was requested, not what was required.

 

She had thought that’s all she needed. Just him alive. Because he was Jon, her Jon.

 

Except that he wasn’t.

 

In those long two years that he’d been gone she had seen the pain in Arya’s face when Robb told them all that he wouldn’t be coming home for the holidays that year, she had heard the the frustration in Robb’s tone when he left him another voicemail.

 

_“Hey Jon, it’s Robb… it’s… look I just need to know that you’re okay. I don’t need to know where you are or why, I don’t even need to know why you’re not here… just… I need you to tell me you’re alright. When all is said and done… you’re… you’re my brother - just… please, call me back.”_

 

She had hated him at the beginning. He had abandoned them. Not her, they had never been close, but he had abandoned Robb and Arya and the boys.

 

_She woke to a blanket being draped over her._

 

_“Robb?,” she asked, sleepily opening her eyes._

 

_“Fraid not, Dovey,” Theon said softly._

 

_“You’re far sweeter than most people give you credit for, aren’t you Greyjoy?,” she asked him._

 

_His sea eyes look at her as he sat on the couch at her side, “No,” he said with a grin, “You just hold the trump card is all.”_

 

_“And what’s that?,” she wondered._

 

_“You’re family,” he shrugged._

 

She’d realised in that moment that she had never given Theon enough credit and had given Jon far too much. It should have been Jon who was with them. It shouldn’t have been Jon taking the boys to school and boxing with Robb. Jon should have sat at the table and tried to make Bran laugh like Ella did, or help Rickon with his homework.

 

She had thought he was selfish, a coward. She had never taken him for a liar too.

 

In the past 72 hours she had learned that her parents had been murdered, and yet she had never felt so betrayed as she did in this moment.

 

“You know?,” she asked, though the truth of it was past question. “You’ve known this whole time.”

 

“Sansa,” he sputtered out, but it brought on a fit of coughing.

 

She hated her weak, stubborn heart for breaking at the sound of his pain. She loved him, she did, and it was exactly that love that made her weak.

 

“You knew it was Ramsay?,” she accused.

 

He stopped coughing and took harsh, steadying breaths. He looked at her and she nearly flinched away, but his ire was not for her. She felt like she no longer knew him, and yet she knew that.

 

“If I had known,” he said, his voice steady, as though he had not just been shot. As though he had not just been gasping for air. “He would have been dead a long time ago.”

 

In spite of herself, she believed him.

 

“And yet you’ve known all this time that my parents death was not an accident?,” she asked him, getting off the bed. “That’s why… _that’s_ why you left? That’s why you abandoned them? Abandoned _me_?”

 

It didn’t matter that they hadn’t been close then, that he owed her nothing. Nothing mattered in that moment except her hating him.

 

If she hated him, this betrayal wouldn’t hurt so much.

 

“Sansa,” he pleaded.

 

His eyes which had just been filled with wrath were now filled with fear and pain and so much love that it threatened to knock her over.

 

She closed her eyes against them, and willed her skin to turn, to porcelain, to ivory, to steel, to something strong, something stronger than her. To something that could protect her.

 

“Goodbye Jon,” she whispered.

 

She fled then, and nearly fell into someone as soon as she entered the hall.

 

“I’m sor-,” she started.

 

“Sansa?,” Robb asked her.

 

“Robby,” she cried, crumbling nearly to the floor.

 

He caught her though, of course he did. He didn’t ask her what was wrong and he didn’t let her fall, he just pulled her against him. Holding her in his arms and letting her cry.

 

After all, he had always been her something strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh let me know what you all think


	15. Les Miserables

He woke once again to the steady _beep, beep, beep_. His whole body ached, he had no idea how long he’d been in this position, but the dull, vague throb in his abdomen told him that he was on a very strong and steady stream of pain killers.

 

He opened his eyes and saw a beautiful girl sitting in the chair beside his bed.

 

“Ella,” he croaked.

 

She startled and her eyes flooded with tears when she looked at him, but she raised a finger to her lips and whispered _shhh._ He furrowed his brow, or at least he tried to, and she pointed to his other side.

 

There he saw Rickon, fifteen years old, head fallen back, mouth hanging open, his sneakers up on the bed. His chair was blocking the entrance to the room.

 

“It’s the first time he’s slept in days,” she whispered.

 

“What’s he doing here?,” he managed.

 

Ella put down the knitting she had in her hands as she stood up.

 

“Protecting me,” she sighed, as though it were ridiculous.

 

As though a murderer and madman had not held a gun to her temple only days earlier. As though Rickon didn’t love her with his whole heart.

 

She leaned over him, and he wondered if he was in for a tongue lashing, but instead he felt a cold compress against his forehead. He all but moaned at it, he hadn’t realised the film on his skin until some of it was taken away. She continued on her ministrations, wiping gently across his forehead, and down his cheeks, and across his neck. That helped the most.

 

“Thank you,” he croaked out.

 

She cupped his cheeked and smiled her Ella smile down at him, “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”

 

“I don’t -“

 

“You do,” she snapped. Her face softened and she went on, “Jon, you saved my life, and Sansa’s, and Robb’s, and everyone else who was there. Now I know you and Sansa have things to sort out, but you and I don’t. As far as I can tell, you’ve been in a terrible spot for the past couple of years and you made a decision _trying_ to do what was best for the people you loved. Now whether you made the right call or not is going to be determined by a higher power than me, but your heart was in the right place. And with me that’s all that counts.”

 

He had never known anyone quite like her. She was absolution itself and when he saw her there, safe and whole, it was too much to handle. He grabbed hold of her wrist so that she wouldn’t move away and he tried to hold the tears back but he couldn’t seem to.

 

She leaned her temple against his, clearly afraid of what a hug might do to him, and she didn’t say anything, she just leaned there in what had to be a terribly uncomfortable position and let him cry.

 

When the tears subsided he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it chastely, in silent thank you.

 

She straightened back up and said, “Can I call someone in here to help you adjust positions? You must be terribly uncomfortable like that.”

 

He nodded and she headed towards the door.

 

“Ella?,” he called softly before she left.

 

She turned, “Yeah Jon?”

 

“Do you think… well… do you…”

 

She smiled at him sadly, “It’s been a rough couple of days, but she’ll come around.”

 

He nodded and she disappeared. She came back with a broad nurse who had to be at least sixty years old.

 

“Well, well, well,” she said, “I guess it just takes a face prettier than mine to wake you out of your sleep, hmm?”

 

Ella giggled, “Rosie there is _no one_ prettier than you.”

 

The nurse shushed Ella but smiled to herself anyway and came over to him.

 

“This is gonna hurt,” she told him sternly.

 

“Do your worst,” he managed.

 

She pshhed at him and reached her arms around him to move him. He had always imagined that he had a pretty strong pain tolerance but he felt like he was seeing stars. When she settled him back against the pillows though he felt much better.

 

Ella peered over him, and scrunched her nose, “He looks green.”

 

Rosie peered over him as well, “Should I get the bucket?”

 

He managed to say, “No,” and Rosie went about her business, checking the machines for his vitals and tidying things.

 

Ella motioned to the bed and he nodded and she sat down gingerly next to him.

 

“Rosie said that when you woke up she’d give you pudding,” she told him gleefully.

 

Rosie muttered under her breath, “ _Only because you bothered me into it.”_

 

Ella winked at him and he smiled. He was about to ask if he could have some water when he heard a sharp but muffled sound.

 

“What was that?,” he asked.

 

Ella’s eyes went wide and she shook her head ever so slightly at him.

 

“I think it was a machine,” she offered vaguely.

 

Rosie, standing behind her put her hands on her hips and said, “Now I have _heard it all_ , who do you think you’re fooling, little Miss Ella?”

 

Ella blushed but said innocently, “Most of the doctors around here…”

 

Rosie chuckled and shook her head, “You just keep that thing _away_ from me.”

 

“Deal!,” Ella squealed and got off the bed and walked around to the other side. She leaned down and when she stood up she was holding a wiggling fur ball that was desperately trying to attack her with his tongue. “Grey _Wind_ stopppp. Stop!”

 

As though she had cracked a whip the puppy went limp in her arms, looking up at her angelically. She cooed at him and kissed his forehead and sat back down on the bed.

 

“This little guy has been worried about you,” she informed him, holding Grey Wind in front of him.

 

To his surprise he already seemed bigger.

 

“How did you sneak him in here?,” he asked her, scratching Grey Wind’s head.

 

While he had been a ball of excitement with Ella, he was incredibly calm with him, so much that he took him out of Ella’s hands and laid him down on his chest. The puppy lay on his back, his head against his heart, and Jon rubbed his tummy.

 

Grey Wind let out a woodsy hum that calmed him and he was soon snoring.

 

“You’re doomed, Ella,” he told her when he caught her smiling at them.

 

“And how’s that?,” she asked.

 

He realised he should have phrased it differently. He had been shot but she had been threatened and held at gun point. She didn’t seem any worse for wear but he wondered if she was doing alright.

 

He gestured to himself and Grey Wind and Rickon, still asleep in the chair in spite of all the commotion.

 

“If we’re the ones looking out for you…,” he teased.

 

Her face relaxed into a smile and she scratched Grey Wind’s neck.

 

“That’s the thing about beasts,” she shrugged, “The best ones seem tame as house cats so no one knows that they can fight like lions.”

 

***

 

“And he ate?,” Sansa asked.

 

“Mmmhm,” Ella said, “Half a turkey sandwich and all of his chocolate pudding. He drank a few cups of water and a little bit of orange juice. I grabbed him something from the cafeteria in case he’s hungry when he wakes up in the middle of the night and left it by his bed.”

 

Sansa felt tears come to her eyes and she nodded though Ella couldn’t see her through the phone, “Okay.”

 

“Rickon and I are just getting into the car now, what can I do for you?,” Ella asked.

 

“You can get some sleep,” Sansa urged, “You haven’t stopped since your party.”

 

“And what a party it was,” Ella sighed, “You know me, I don’t settle when my people aren’t settled. And none of you are settled.”

 

Sansa could practically see the stubborn divet in between her eyes. It was true, none of them were making it easy on her. Robb had been splitting his time between the police department, their lawyers, and taking care of the kids. Jon had been asleep in a hospital bed. Rickon had been following around Ella just like Grey Wind and she’d…

 

She hadn’t been much help either.

 

“Then you might as well come here,” she said, “Robb’ll be pissed, but you’ll come watch an old movie with me right?”

 

“Of course I will,” Ella told her, “Robb has claimed that he will never be cross with me ever again, so that should last for at least a _week.”_

 

Sansa giggled and then heard a knock on the door, “Come in!,” she yelled, “Gotta go El.”

 

“Wait!,” Robb said, “Is that Ella? Put her on speakerphone.”

 

Sansa put the phone on speakerphone, “El?”

 

“Yeah?,” Ella yawned.

 

“Sweetheart you sound exhausted,” Robb sighed. “Please tell me you’re going home soon.”

 

“No I’m coming to you,” Ella told him, then corrected herself, “Well actually I’m coming to Sansa, but I’ll stop in and say hello.”

 

Robb’s gaze fell to her and he glared at her but he said sweetly to Ella, “Alright sweet girl, drive safe. See you soon.”

 

Sansa hung up the phone and she said, “A sleepover is the only way I can be assured that she’ll actually _sleep_.”

 

“I’d let her sleep!,” Robb protested.

 

She fixed him with a look and he sighed and nodded, as though he didn’t trust himself very much in that regard either. He sat down at the foot of her bed and then laid back. He was still in his suit and had barely loosened his tie.

 

“He ate today,” Sansa told him.

 

Robb sat up instantly, “Really? He’s awake? Why didn’t Ella tell me?”

 

“I don’t know, probably because she was too busy looking after her puppy, and our younger brother and my boyfriend slash your best friend who has been lying in a hospital bed for the past four days?,” she proposed.

 

Unconvinced Robb grabbed his phone out of his pocket and closed his eyes, “She texted me at 3 o’clock. _Fuck!_ ”

 

“Robb, it’s okay,” she promised, “It’s _Ella_ , and she knows how much you have on your plate.”

 

Robb shook his head, “I know I know, it’s not that really… I just thought I had it all figured out, I… I thought we were all in a good place finally and then that _motherfucker_ just… _fuck_.”

 

With that he got off the bed and started pacing her room. She hugged her knees to her and watched him. He hadn’t been like this since their parents first died, when Rickon started getting into fights at school.

 

“We’ll get back there,” she assured him. But then she needed some assurance too, and asked softly, “Won’t we?”

 

He turned back to look at her and all of the harshness fell out of his features. He gave her a sad smile, his eyes crinkling and he nodded.

 

He came back and sat on the bed again and patted her knees, “Yeah Dovey, of course we will.”

 

“Robb?,” she asked after a moment.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you angry at him?,” she asked.

 

“Who?,” Robb asked her. He looked at her and understanding washed over his face and he nodded, “Yeah.”

 

She felt tears filling her eyes again and she nodded, “Me too. And it hurts… Robbie it hurts so badly I feel like I was the one who got shot…”

 

Robb folded her into his arms and rocked her back and forth, “I know it does, Dovey,” he said, stroking her hair. After a moment she heard his own sob and she held him tighter. “It’s because we aren’t just angry. If we were just angry it wouldn’t feel like this.”

 

“I love him,” Sansa wailed, her body racked with another sob, “I love him so much and I can’t… I can’t. I can’t…”

 

“Yes you can,” he promised her. “Yes, you can. We all love him Sansa, we all do. And… I’m sure he had a good reason… and the bottom line is… if this were Ella… if she had done what he did… if… well… there just isn’t a single thing she could ever do that’d make me stop loving her, there’s no sin that’d keep me away. And I think you love him nearly as much as I love her.”

 

“But what about Arya and Bran and Rickon? How are they ever going to forgive me for what I did to Mom and Dad? And now this? How-“

 

“Because it’s not your fault,” she heard from the doorway. Robb released her and she saw Arya standing there with Bran. “None of it.”

 

“Arya…,” she started.

 

“She’s right, Sansa,” Bran told her. They both came into her room and crawled on her bed. “You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t ask _him_ to break into your room or to come up here and… do what he did to them. And you didn’t ask Jon to cover up whatever he covered up and you didn’t even ask to fall in love with him. And who would we be if we blamed you for things that weren’t your fault?”

 

“My family,” Ella offered from the doorway.

 

They all looked over at where she stood with Rickon and in less than a second, Grey Wind had sprinted across the room and hopped up on the bed. He came and licked the tears off of her cheeks.

 

Ella and Rickon got up on her bed as well, and she wondered briefly if it was going to collapse.

 

“None of us blame you,” Rickon told her, lying across the foot of the bed and slapping away Arya’s foot when she pushed it into his nose. “We blame him, and only him. And for what it’s worth… Jon is miserable without you.”

 

“How would _you_ know, you were sleeping most of the time he was awake,” Ella teased him.

 

“Or so I would have you think,” Rickon told her conspiratorially making her and Arya giggle.

 

Bran smacked him in the face with a pillow and Rickon went to tackle him backwards, causing Ella to jump into the safety of Robb’s arms. Grey Wind was hopping all over everyone, desperate to join in the fun and for the first time in days, Sansa was well and truly tired.

 

She fell asleep to the sound of her family, happy at least for a brief moment and as whole as it would ever be again.


	16. Candide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh thank you all so much for the support on this one. I had considered taking it longer just because I loved writing it, but I don't want to stretch it just for the sake of it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, and if you want any 'in universe' one-shot follow-ups let me know!
> 
> xx

 

“Sansa, baby,” Rosie smiled at her as she neared Jon’s hospital room.

 

“H-hiya Rosie,” Sansa said shakily.

 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rosie said, pulling her into a comforting embrace, “We’re doing our best for him, but nobody else is gonna heal that broken heart of his.” Sansa burrowed into her for a moment and Rosie said, “And it’s gonna heal yours too. It just takes time, and forgiveness… for whatever dumbass thing he did.”

 

Sansa broke out into teary laughter and nodded. She wiped her face, and took a deep breath.

 

“Knock, knock,” she said softly, in case he was sleeping.

 

She’d been doing a lot of reading on the recovery from gun shots, and like anything else, sleep was one of the most important things.

 

“Sansa,” Jon breathed out and she walked in to find him trying to sit up.

 

“Don’t get up,” she urged and crossed into the room.

 

She sat down on the side of his bed and tried to fix his pillows. He looked better than the last time she’d seen him, but he still looked pale, with deep purple hollows under his eyes.

 

“How do you feel?,” she asked.

 

“Fine,” he nodded, “You know uh… good, I should be out in a day or two and then um…,” he broke off and chuckled, which turned quickly into a cough, “The truth is, I feel like shit. No worse than I deserve.”

 

“Don’t say that,” she ordered and his beautiful eyes flicked to hers. Hers filled with tears and she said, “I’m angry with you.”

 

He nodded solemnly, “I know.”

 

“No you _don’t_ know,” she argued, “I _trusted you_ , about Ramsay about… about everything and you just…”

 

“Broke that trust,” Jon said.

 

She shook her head in denial. Because it wasn’t that. It was worse.

 

“No, you didn’t trust me,” she told him. He looked at her in surprise and she went on, “I brought you my biggest, darkest secret, the thing that had haunted me and I laid it on your door because I knew you’d keep it safe…and you just didn’t trust me to do the same.”

 

“You think I didn’t tell you because I didn’t trust you?,” he asked her. She nodded. “Sansa, I didn’t tell you because I _failed_ you. I wanted to tell you, I had planned to tell you, tell you all. I never would have stayed away for two years just _because_. I knew the report didn’t make sense, and my suspicions were right, that it wasn’t an accident, but I couldn’t figure out who it was, who had done it or why. And I didn’t want to tell you until it was _over_ , until that fucker was behind bars. And I never found him… so I stayed away.”

 

“But none of us,” she shook her head, taking his hand, “None of us would have expected you to find him… we would have -“

 

“Exactly,” Jon nodded, squeezing her hand. “Robb was already dealing with so much. You all needed him so much. If I had told him that someone had done this to your family, do you think he would have stayed and made school lunches for the kids and run the family company? Sansa that’s not who he is.”

 

Tears streamed down her face as she realised that he was right. It was the same reason she had never told Robb about Ramsay in the first place. With everything going on, she didn’t want to tell him anything, lay one more problem at his feet. And she knew what he would do, and the kids needed him too much. She needed him too much.

 

And Jon knew that. He’d always know that.

 

Her parents had been like parents to him as well. He had lost them too and then had given up the rest of his family to avenge them.

 

Her brothers and sister had lost Jon because of Ramsay. Because of her.

 

“He killed them,” she broke down, “B-because of me… It’s my -“

 

“No it is not!,” he shouted at her and then winced. He took her face in his hands and said, “It’s not your fault, my love. He’s sick, and crazy and he will pay for what he has done, but you will _not_. You can’t torture yourself over this.”

 

“He almost killed Ella because of me,” she went on, and then looked at him, “He almost killed _you_.”

 

The sob racked her body and she felt herself being pulled into his arms. She wasn’t sure if it was safe to be leaning on him like this but he was holding her close and stroking her hair.

 

It reminded her of before they’d gotten together, when this whole mess had first started, when she’d wake up and find herself pinned to his chest. She remembered how safe she always felt with him nearby. Never more so than she did now, so she burrowed into him deeper.

 

He held her until the tears stopped, until the voices in her head stopped, until she felt weightless, like she was underwater.

 

“I love you,” she told him.

 

“I love you something awful, Sansa Stark,” she heard him whisper before she fell asleep.

 

***

 

“That’s good, just a few more steps!,” Ella cooed encouragingly.

 

“By the gods, El, you’d think he was just learning to walk,” Robb chuckled, “Is this what you’re going to be like with our kids?”

 

Everyone stopped, especially Jon who was grateful for the excuse to rest, and turned to look at Robb.

 

 

“Did you just -,” Ella started.

 

“No,” Robb shook his head blushing, “Definitely not.”

 

Rickon chuckled and said, “You’re so full of shit, you already have their names picked out.”

 

Jon started laughing which caused him to start coughing and suddenly they all remembered why they were there and turned back to him. Ella rushed back to his side and took his elbow and Robb came on his other side.

 

“Your firstborn son is going to be named Jon, right?,” he asked Robb.

 

“Yes,” Ella said as Robb said, “No.”

 

They walked through the automatic doors of the hospital and Jon took in greedy gulps of fresh air. He had been able to come out a few times while he was recuperating, but this was different. He was going home.

 

Not to Molestown, but to Winterfell. Home.

 

He was taking a mandatory leave of absence from work, and Sansa was taking some time off of school. He had tried to convince her not to, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

 

_I’m training to learn how to help people in recovery, how to help their families. Consider you my first case study._

 

He hadn’t protested quite as hard as he should have, because he knew it’s what she wanted, and it was what he wanted too. After so much time away, so many time searching for answers, he just wanted to be at home with the people he loved.

 

 _And there’s the one I love the most_.

 

Sansa had gone ahead to get the car and she stood now waiting for him, a bright smile on her face.

 

“If you can walk all the way to me,” she teased, “I’ll give you a treat.”

 

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” Robb sighed as Jon pushed him away, walking with a new strength.

 

His steps were slow, but steady, and he felt Ella walking behind him in case his legs gave out. She really was treating him like her little duckling, but it was okay, coming from her.

 

His brow was perspiring by the time he got to Sansa but it was worth it, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She kissed him softly, sweetly, and though he’d have liked to deepen it, he didn’t quite have the breath to.

 

“Worth it,” he smiled dopily at her.

 

She grinned and a gorgeous blush spread on her cheeks and she said, “Good, but _that_ wasn’t your treat.”

 

With that she let go of him and went to the back seat and opened it. Two adorable little puppies hopped out, both trying to climb up her legs to get to her.

 

She bent down and picked them up and while Grey Wind was a ball of energy when Ella held him, these ones were different. There was a grey one that rested sweetly against Sansa’s chest, her front paws crossed. The all white one appraised him carefully, as though he was wondering if he could be trusted with Sansa. He had peculiar red eyes, but when Jon raised his hand to his snout, he sniffed and gave him a tentative lick.

 

“I got one too,” Rickon exclaimed. Then asked Sansa, “Have you decided which one you’re keeping?”

 

Jon looked at him in horror and said, “Don’t talk like that in front of them.”

 

Sansa burst out laughing and she explained, “I had been planning on keeping one for myself, and giving the other to you.” She looked at him warily, and then her eyes darted to her brothers as though she’d prefer to have this conversation alone, she took a deep breath though and said, “But I don’t think I can choose. So I was thinking…”

 

“By the gods he took a bullet for you, you can’t steal his dog!,” Rickon chuckled.

 

“You,” Ella scolded him, “With me,” she demanded and Rickon shamefaced followed her away. She turned and said, “You too,” to Robb and he sighed and followed her as well. “See you guys back at home,” she said and with a wink for him they were gone.

 

Sansa was still blushing so he stroked the grey one’s head. Her eyes opened and he could swear that she smiled at him. Her tail wagged and he took her out of Sansa’s arms. She gave him sweet little licks and then settled back against him, her head resting delicately on her paws.

 

“She’s such a lady,” he chuckled.

 

Sansa smiled, “That’s what I was thinking…”

 

“What _else_ were you thinking?,” he asked, because he knew that blush didn’t come from nowhere.

 

The white one in her arms sniffed the grey one, nuzzling his face against hers.

 

“They love each other,” she told him, “And well, I really can’t decide…and well… I was thinking that they could maybe both be… ours?”

 

Jon remembered the first time he’d woken up with Sansa in his arms. The overwhelming rightness he felt. It paled in comparison to how he felt now.

 

“Ours?,” he grinned.

 

“Ours,” she grinned back.

 

He pulled her closer to him and kissed her once again. The puppies were crowded between them and she started giggling when one of them started licking her neck.

 

“You, me, and these two,” he chuckled, scratching the white one behind the ears, “Sounds like quite the arrangement…What could go wrong?”

 


End file.
